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WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. 



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PLAYS 



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TVILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. 



VOLUME the THIRD, 



CONTAINIKG, 

MIDSUMMER NIGHTS DREAM. 
MERCHANT of VENICE. 
AS YOU LIKE IT. , 
TAMING THE SHREW. 



LONDON: 

PriBted for C. Bathurst, J. Bsbcropt» W. Strahan, J* 
and F.RiviNGTONy J.Hxnton»L.Datu» Hawes,Clari:b 
and Collin^ R. Horspiild, W. Johnston, W. Owin* 
T. Caslon, £. Johnson, S. Crowdir, B. White, T« 
Losf «MAif, B. Law, £• and C. Dillt, C. Corbitt, W« 
GwLirviM, T. Cadbll, W. Woodfall, G. Kbith, T. 
I^owMDiB* T. Datibs^ J. RoBsoN, T. Beckbt, F. Nbw- 
9MKT, G. RoBiJCibir, T. Patnb, J. Wii.lxam.s M^ 

HlBrOSBTOW, BlldJ. RiDLSY. 

MDCCLXXIII. 



THE NEW YMK 
-PUBLIC LIBHARY 



47168 



\ 



ABTTOR. LENOX AND 
TILDHH r«UK»ATI»N» 



MI D S U M M E R- N I G H T's 



I> R E A M, 



Vol. ni 



B 



Per- 



Perfons Reprefentcd. 

THESEUS, Buke of Athens. 

Egcus, an Athenian Lcrd. 

Lyfandcr, in love ivitb Hermia. 

Demetrius, in Icve ivitb Hermia. 

Philoftrate, Mafter of the Sports to tie Duke. 

Quince, the Carpentsr. 

Snug, tbejoi'^er. 

Bottom, thelVeaver. 

Flute, the Bellows'tncnder. 

Snowt, the linker. 

Starveling, tteTaylcr. 

Hippolita, Princefs of the Amazons, betrothed to Thc- 

leus. 
Hermia, Daughter to Egeus, in love w//i^ Lylandcr. 
Helena, in love with Demetrius. 

Attendants. 

Oberpn, King of the Fairies. 

Titania, S^ueen of the Fairies. 

Puck, or Robin-goodfellow, a Fairy. 

PeafeblolTom, 

Cobweb, 



} 



Moth, '^'«""- 

Muftard-fced, 

Pyramus, 1 

\tt \i ^* I CharaSlers in the Interlude performed by 
Stocf '*- Clowns. 
Lyon, J 

Other Fairies attending on the King and ^en. 
SCENE, Athens, and aWood not far fromjt. 



M I D S U M M E R . N I G H T'8 



D R E 



M. 



ACTL SCENE L 

The Duke's ' Palace in Athens. 
Enter Tbefeus^ HippoHtay Philojlrate^ with attendants^ 

Theseus. 

NOW, fair Hippolita, our nuptial hour 
Draws on apace : four happy days bring in 
Another moon : but, oh, methinks,. how flow 
This old moon wanes ! Ihe lingers my dcfires, 

* It is probable that the hint for this play was received from 
Chaucer's Knight's Tale: thence it is, that our author fpeaksof 
Thefeos as duke of Athens. The Tale begins thus : 
*^ Whylome as olde (lories tellin us, 
«* There was a Duke that highte Thefeus, 
** Of Athens he was lord and governour, &c." 

Lidgate too, the monk of Bury, in his Tranflation of the Trage^ 
dies of John Bochas, calls him the fame. chap. xii. 1. 2i. 
" Duke Thefeus had the viftorye." 
Creon» in the tragedy of Jocaila, tranflated from Euripides io 
1566, is called Duke Creon. 
SoSkelton, 

" Not lyke Duke Hamilcar, 
" Nor lyke Duke Afdruball." 

And Stanyhurft, in his Tranllation of Virgil, calls ^neas, Duii 
JEneas. 
The Paftondsof Draytoo, quoted in the notes, were printed in 

1593. ST£EV£NI» 

B2 Like 



4 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT's DREAM. 

Like to a ftep-dame, or a dowager. 

Long withering out a young man's revenue. * 

Hip. Four days will quickly fteep chemfelves in 
night ; 
Four nights will quickly dfeam away the time ; 
And "then the moon, like to a filver bow. 
New bent ih heaven, (hall behold the night 
Of our folemnities. 

The. Go, Hhiloftrate, 
Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments : 
' Awake fhe pert and nimble fpirit of mirth •, 
Turn melancholy forth to funerals. 
The pale companion is not for our pomp. [Exit Phi. 

Hippolita, I woo*d thee with my fword j 
And won thy love, doing thee injuries i 
But I will wed thee in another key. 
With pomp, with triumph, and with revelling. 

EnUr EgeuSy Htrmia^ Lyfander^ and Demetrius. 

Ege. Happy be Thefcus, our renowned duke ! 

Tie. Thanks, good Egeus: what's the news with 
thee ? 

Ege. Full of vacation come I, with complaint 
Againft my child, my daughter Hcrmia. — 
Stand forth, Demetrius : — My noble lord. 
This man hath my confent to marry her. 
Stand forth, Lyfander ; — and, my gracious duke. 
This man hath ^ witch*d the bofom of my child : 
Thou, thou, Lyfander, thou haft given her rhimes. 
And interchang'd love- tokens with my child: 

• Long WITHERING OUTtf Jf^ung man*! revenue. ] Long mui* 
tbfring out is, certainly, not good Englifh. I rather think Shake- 
fpeare wrote. Long wintering on a young man* $ re*vinue^ 

Warburton, 

That the common reading is not good £ngli(h, 1 cannot per- 
ceive, and therefore find in myfelf qo tempution to change it. 

JOHlfSON. 

' The old copies read kwitcVd. Johnson. 

Thou 



A MlDSUMMER-NIGHrs DREAM. 5 

Thou haft by moon- light at her window fiMig, - 
With feigning voice, yerfes of feigning lovej; , 
And ftol'n the imprcflion of her fantafy. •' • 

With bracelets of thy hair,- rings, gawds'^, conciitx. 
Knacks, trifles, nofegays, fweet-meats, mcflcngers' 
Of ftrong prcvailment in unhardenM youth: 
With cunning haft thou filch'd my daughter's hearty 
Turn'd her obedience, which is due to me, 
Toftubborn harflinefs: — And, my gracious duke^ 
Be it fo, (he will not here before your Grace 
Confent to marry with Demetrius ; 
I beg the antient privilege of Athens, 
As Ihc is mine, I may difpofe of her: 
Which ihafl be either to this gentleman. 
Or to her death, according to our law, ^ 
Immediately provided in that cafe. 

The. What lay you, Hermia ? be advis'd, fair maid. 
To you your father ftiould be as a God, * 

One 

. ■■ J . • 

♦ g atuds^ — ] i. c. baubles, toys, trifles. Our author hta 

the word frequently ; See King John, aA 3. (c. 5. Steevens. 

' Or 10 bit dtatb^ auordin^ to our Aiw.] By a law of Solon's, 
parents had an abfolute power of life and death over their chil- 
dren. So it fuited the poet's purpofe well enough, tofuppofc the 
i\thenians had it before. — Orperhaps he neither thought nor kn?w 
any thing of the matter. Warburton. 

• To you your father Jhould be as a Ged^ 
One, nvbo composed your btautirs ; yea^ and one^ 
7tf *wbcmyou are but as a foim in 'wax 
By bim imprinted ; and njcifb* n his /^otvcr 
To LEAVE tbe figure or disiigure ./.] 
We Ihould read, 

To 'leve the figure^ Sec, 
i. c. relive, to heighten or add to the beauty of the figure, which 
is faid to he imprinted by bim. 'Tis from the French, re/e'ver. Thus 
they fay, Tapiffrizs releijees d*or. In the fame fenfe they ufe enh* 
ver^ which Maundevile makes Englifh of in this manner — Aid 
alle the nvaVes loitbinne ben eovi^eJ twith gold and Jylver, in fyn 
flaUs : and in the plates ben fieri fs ar:dba:aylcs ^fKnygbta en lb vkd, 
B 3 "p. 228. 



6 A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 

One, that composed your beauties-, yea, and one. 
To whom you are but as a form in wax 
By him imprinted, and within his power 
To leave the figure, or disfigure it. 
Demetrius is a worthy gentleman. 

Her. So is Lyfander. 

The. In himfelf he is : 
But in this kind, wanting your father*s voice. 
The other muft be held the worthier. 

Her. I would, my father looked but with my eyes. 

The. Rather your eyes muft with his judgment 
look. 

Her. I do intreat your Grace to pardon me: 
I know not,, by what power I am made bold j , 
Nor how it may concern my modefty. 
In fuch a prefence here, to plead my thoughts* 
But, I bcfeech your Grace, that I may know 
The worft that may befal me in this cafe. 
If I refufe to wed Demetrius. 

The. Either to die the death, ^ or to abjure 
For ever the fociety of men. 
Therefore, fair Hermia, queftion yourdefircs; 
• Know of your youth, examine well your blood, 

p. 228. Rabelais, with a ftrain ofbaffbon humour, that equals 
the fober elegance of this paiTage in our poet, calls the fmaii gen- 
try of Fraijce, Gentilhomfnes de bas relief. W a R B u r ton . 

J know not why To harfh a word Ihould be admitted with fo 
little need, a word that, fpcken, could not be onderflood, aiid of 
which no example can be flicwn. The fenfe is pHain, you o-wc io 
your father a hei/tg 'wbicb be may at fleajure continue or deUroy 

Johnson. 

^ — /-» die the deaths — ] Shakefpcare employs this icripinral 
expreffiOn in King John ; and I meet with it r.jjain in the Iccond 
part of the Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntingdon, 1601. 

" Wcwill, n.y liege, elfelet us ^/>/ifr/^.tf/^." Steevens. 

•• Kntyw of j9ur youth,] Bring yoar youth to the queHion. Con- 
fidcr your youth. Jo«kson. 

Whe. 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. 7 

Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice. 

You can endure the livery of a nun -, 

For aye to be in fhady cloifter mew*d, 

To live a bari^en fifter all your life, 

Chanting faint hymns to the cold, fruitlefs moon ? 

Thrice blefled rhcy that mailer lb their blood. 

To undergo fuch maiden pilgrimage ! 

Butearthlicr happy is the rofe diftill'd, ' 

Than that, which withering on the virgin-thorn. 

Grows,, lives, and dies, in fmgle bleficdnefs, * 

Her. So will I grow, fo live, fo die my lord. 
Ere I will yield my virgin-patent up 
Unto his lordfliip, ' to whofe unwifh'd yoak 
My foul confents not to give fovereignty. 

Jbe. Take time to paufe : and, by the next new 
moon, 
(The fealing day betwixt my love and me, 
For everlafting bond of fellowlhip) 
Upon that day either prepare to die. 
For difobedience to your father's will ; 
Or elfe to wed Demetrius, as he would ; 
Or on Diana's altar to proreft. 
For aye, aufterity and fingle life. 

Dem. Relent, fwcetHermia; and, Lyfanier, 

yield 
Thy crazed title to my certain right. 

Lyf. You have her father's love, Demetrius ; 
Let me have Hermia's; do you marry him. 

Egc. Scornful Lyfander ! true, he hath my love ; 
And what is mine, my love fhall render him 2 

5 But tarthlier bappv is thi rofe diftilVdJ] Thus all the COpicS^ 
yet earthlift is fo harfti a word," and earthlier happy for happier 
tatthijj a mode of fpeech fo unufual, that I wonder pone ot che 
editors have propo(cd ^ar//^'- i&tf/^j. JoHNSorj. . 

It has fince been obferved, tnat Mr. Pope did propok earl-er, 

5TEbVENS. 

' " — to luho/e unrwiflfdyole ] Thus the modern editors ; th^ 
particle to is wanting in the old copies. St&£V£NS. 

B \ An4 



8 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHrs DREAPvt 

And fhe is mine; and all my right of her 
I do cftate unto Demetrius. 

Ljf. I am» my lord, as well deriv'd as he. 
As well pofTcfs'd : my love is more than his : 
My fortune's every way as fairly ranked. 
If not with vantage, as Demetrius's : 
And, which is more than all thefe boafts can be, 
I am belov'd of beauteous Hermia. 
Why fhould not I then profeQUtc my right ? 
Demetrius (I'll avouch it to his head; 
Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena ; . . . 
And won her foul ; and (he, fwcet lady, doats. 
Devoutly doats, doats in idolatry. 
Upon this fpotted and inconftant man. * 

The. I muft confefs, that I have heard fo much. 
And with Demetrius thought to have fpoke thereof j 
But being over- full of Telf-afFairs, 
My mind did lofe it. — But, Demetrius, come.;. 
And come, Egeus ; you (hall go with me ; • 
I have fome private fchooling tor you both.—* 
For you, fair Hermia, look, you arm yourfelf 
To fit your fancies to your father's will ; 
Or clfe the law of Athens yields you up 
(Which by no means we may extenuate) 
To death, or to a vow of fingle life — 

Come, my Hippolita -, what chear, my love ?— 

Demetrius, and Egeus, go along j 

I muft employ you in fome bufinefs 

Againft our nuptiil, and confer with you 

Of ibmethihg, nearly that concerns yourfelv^s. . 

Ege. With diUy and- defire we. follow you. 

\Excunt Tbef Htp. E^eus^ Dem. and train. , 

Lyf How now, my love? why is your cheek fo 
pale ? 

* Sfcttsd.l h%/fotle/s is innocent, fo /potttd is wicked. 

Johnson. 

How 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT's DREAM. 9 

How chance the rofes there do fade fo faft ? 
Her. Belike, for want of rain ; which I could well 

' Bctccm them from the temped of mine eyes. 
Lyf. Ah me, ^ for aught that ever I could read. 

Could ever hear by talc or hiflory, 

Thecpurfe of true love never did run fmooth. 

But, either it was different in blood, ' 

Her. O crofs !— too high to be enthralled to low ! — » 
Lyf. Or elfe mifgraffed, in refpeft of years ; — 
Her. O fpight ! too old, to be engag'd to young I 
Lyf. Or elfe it flood upon the choice of friends*— 
Her. O hell ! to chufe love by another's eye ! 
Lyf. Or, if there were a fympathy in choice. 

War, death, or ficknefs did lay fiege to it \ 

Making it ^ momentany as a found. 

Swift as a fhadow, fhort as any dream, 

3 Beteei/i t^m^-^] give them, beftow qpon them. The word it^ 
ufed by Spenfer. . Jo h v sqn . . 

The word is ufed' by yet later writers. I meet with it in T/hf 
Ca/g is aliif^d, . How ? a dramatic dialogue, 1 65 3 •— — * * I could 
^* bfieem her a Better match/' Stbevbn-s. 

' Tm high t9 be imbraird to hve.l This reading poiTef&s all 
the editions, but carries no jufl meaning in it. Nor was Her* 
mia difpleas'd at being in love ; but regrets the inconveniendea 
that generally attend die oaffion : either, the parties are dlfpro* 
portioned, in degree of blood and quality; or unequal, in re- 
fped of years ; or brought together by the appointment of friendst 
and not by their own choice. Theie are the complaints repre- 
fented by Lyfander ; and Hermia, to anfkrer to the firil, as flie 
has done to the other two, muft neceiTarily fay ; 

O cro/s ! — too high to be inthtalVdto low ! 

So theantithefis is kept up in the terms; and fo (he is made to 
condole the difproportion of blood and quality in lovers. 

Theobald* 

Sir T. H. adheres to the old reading. Stbbv||Hs. 

^ The old editions read momentany, which is (he old and pro* 
per word. The modern editors, m^mf/s/tfry. Johnson. 

Brief 



lO A MIDSUMMERNIGHT's DREAM. 

Brief as the lightning in the collied night, ^ 
That (in a fplccn) unfolds both heaven and earthy 
And ere a man hath power to fay. Behold! 
The jaws of darkncfs do devour it up : 
So quick bright things come to confufion.— 

Her. If then true lovers have been ever croft. 
It ftands as an ediA in deftiny : 
Then, let us teach our tryal patience : 
Becaufc it is a cuftomary crofs. 
As due to love, as thoughts and dreams, and fighs, 
Wi(hes and tears, poor fancy's followers ' 

Lyf. A good perfuafion j therefore hear me, 

Hermia. 
• I have a widow aunt, a dowager. 
Of great revenue, and (he hach no child: 

From 

^ Brief a^ the lightning in thi collied nighty 
Tbaty :n a fplecn, unfolds both hea*vtH and iarth^ 
Andtrt a man bath poxvcr to fay ^ Behold! 
^he jaius cf darknefs do derour it up,] 

T*hough the word /flujt be here employed oddly enough, yet I be- 
lieve it right Shakefpcare, always hurried on by thejgrandcur 
and multitude of his ideas, aiTumcs every now and then, an uq« 
common licence in the ufe of his words. Particularly in com« 
plex mor^l modes it is ufual with him to employ one, only to ex- 
prefs a very few ideas of that number of which it is compofcd. 
Thus wanting here to exprefs the ideas — of a fudden, or — in a 
tricty he ufcs the word fpU'en\ whicli, partially conddcrcd, iig- 
nifyinea haily fudden fit, is enough for him, and he never trou- 
bles himfe:f about the further or fuller fignification ( f the word. 
Here, he ufen the word fp en for a fid tn hajly fit ; fo juft the 
contrary, in the Two Gcj;t emen of \'erona, he ufes fuadn for 

fpleenaiic fu 'den quips. And it murf be QwneJ this fort of con- 

verfation adds a force to the liidion. War burton. 

Br iff at the ligh'n.rg in the edited n:^ht^] colied, i. e. black, 
fmutted with coal, a word iUll ufed jn the midland counties. 
^ So in Ben Jo^on's Foetaiier: 

" — Thou^nil not coii j rhy face enough. Steeveks. 

• / ha^e a nxiJo^w aunt^ &c.] Thcfe lines perhaps might more 
properly be regulated thus : i 

Ibavt 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM, it 

From Athens is her houfe remote ^ fevcn leagues^ 
And (he rcfpefts me as her only fon. 
There, gcnde Hermia> may I marry thee ; 
And to that place the iharp Athenian law 
Cannot purfue us. If thou lov'ft mc then. 
Steal forth thy father's houfe to-morrow night ; 
And, in the wood, a league without the town. 
Where I did meet thee once with Helena, 
To do obfervance to a morn of May, 
There will I flay for thee. 

Her. My good Lyfander, 
I fwear to thee by Cupid*s ftrongeft bow, " 

By 

/ have a *wtdcnjo aunty a dvojagtr 
\ Of great ^futnue^ and Jht hath no child f 
And Jht Tdfpicis me as her only /on ; 
Her hou/e from At Inns is remon/d fe*vtn Itaguis^ 
^hfrty gentle Hermia^ may I marry thee^ 
And to that place Johnson. 

• '^•remcte, — ] Remote is the reading of both the qaarto*8 ; the 
folio reads^ rtmo^^d. Steevens. 

* Lyf. Jffhou loiifl me then^ 

Stea' forth thy fatbir^i houfe ^ &C. 
Her. My ^ood Lyfander ^ 

I fuurar to thee by Cupid* s flfongejl boiv, ' 

By, &c. &c. 

In that fan:t place thou haft appointed me 

To- morrow truly 'will I meet njuitb thee,] 
Lyfander dees but juft propofe her running away from her father 
at midnight, and liraight (he is at her oaths that fhe will meet him 
at the place of rendezvous. Not one doubt or hcfitation, not one 
condition of affu ranee for Lyfander's conflancy. Either fiie was 
naufeonfly coming ; or fhe had before jilted him ; and he could 
not believe her without a thoufand oaths. But Shakefpeare ob- 
fervcd nature at another rate. — The fpccches are divided wrong, 
and muft be thus rectified ; when Lyfander had propofed her run- 
ning away with him, flic replies. 

Her. Aly good Lyfander 

and is going on, to aflc fecurity for his fidelity. This he peiv 
ccives, and interrupts her with the grant ol what fhe demands. 

Lyf. 



tft A MIDSUMMER-NIGHrs DREAM. 

By his beft arrow with the golden head. 
By the fimplicity of Venus' doves. 
By that, which knitteth fouls, and profpers loves ; 
And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage queen. 
When the falfe Trojan under fail was feen ; 
By all th^ vows that ever men have broke, 
In number more than ever women fpoke ; 
In that fame place thou haft appointed me. 
To-morrow truly will 1 meet with thee. 
Lyf. Keep promife, love. Look, here comes Helena. 

Enter Helena. 

Her. God fpeed, fair Helena ! Whither away ? 

HeL Call you me fair ? that fair again unfay. 
» Demetrius loves * you, fair -, O happy fair ! 
Your eyes are ' lode-ftars, and your tongue's fweet air 

More 

Lyf. / fnjotar to the hy Cupid* s ftrongefi hwu^ &C. 
"By all the voivs that ever men have broke 
In number more than en^er ^wcman Jpoke 

Here (he interrupts him in her turn ; declares herfelf fatisfied, and 
confencs to meet him in the following words. 

Her. — /« that fame place thou bafi appointed mi 9 
To-morrow truly nuill I meet ijnith thee. 

This divifion of the lines, beiides preferving the chara£ler, give:s 
the dialogue infinitely more force and fpirit. War burton. 

This emendation is judicious, but not necefTary. I hav)e there- 
fore given the note wiihout altering the text. The cenfure of 
men, as oftner perjured than women, feems to make that line 
more proper for the lady. Johnson. 

* The quarto reads— ^©«r fair. Johnson. 
3 Toureyet are lode- fiar..'\ This was a complement not unfrequent 
among the old poets. The lode flaris the leading or guiding (lar, 
that is, the pole-ftar. The magnet is, for the fame rcafon, called 
the hde-fioht, either becaufe it leads iron, or becaufe it guides the 
failor. Milton has the fame thought in L'Allegro; 
Totxj^rs and baulments he Jees 
Bofom^d ^tgh in tufted trees^ 
Where perhaps jom* beauty lies^ 
Thg Cynofure of nergbbWing ejes. 

Davies 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM, 13 

More tuneable than lark to {hcpherd*s ear, 

When wheat is green, when haw- thorn buds appear. 

Sicknefs is catching : O, were favour fo ! 

Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go ; ♦ 

My ear fliould carch your voice, my eye your eye ; 

My tongue Ihould catch your tOngue*s fwcct mel(xly. 

Were the world mine, Demetrius being 'bated. 

The reft Til give to be to you tranflated. 

O teach me, how you look -, and with what art 

You fway the motion of Demetrius' heart. 

Her. I frown upon him, yet he loves me ftilL 

HeL Oh, that your frowns would teach myfmiles 
fuch (kill ! 

Her. I give him curfcs, yet he gives me love. 

HeL Oh, that my prayers could fuch affedtion move! 

Her. The more I hate, the more he follows me. 

Hel. The more I love, the more he hateth me. 

Her. ^ His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine. 

Hel. None, but your beauty; would that fault 
were mine ! 

Her. Take comfort ; he no more (hall fee my facc^, 
Lyfander and myfclf will fly this place. 
Before the time I did Lyfander fee, ^ 
Seem'd Athens like a paradife to me. 

Davles calls Elizabe^, lode-ftont to heartft, and hdeftont to all 
eyes. Johnson. 

In Hall's Chronicle, Henry V. promifes his friends to be their 
•* guide, Udefmany and condudtor." Stbevbns. 

♦ This emendation is taken from the Oxford edition. The 
old reading is. Your words Fd catcb. John son . 

' The folio and one of the quarto's read. His folljt Heltna^ 
is momi of mim, Johnson. 

* Perhaps every reader may not difcover the propriety of the(e 
lines. Hcrmia is willing to comfort Helena, and to avoid all ap- 
pearance of triumph over her. She therefore bids her not to con- 
fider the power of pleafmg, as an advantage to be muchenvie^ 
ormoch deiired, fince Hermia, whom (he coniiders as poiTefling it 
in the fupreme degree, has found no other eiFedt of it than th« 
lofs of happinefs .Johnson. 

Othen 



14 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHrs DREAMi 

O then, what graces in my love do dwell. 
That he hath turned a heaven unto a hell ? 

Lyf. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold; 
To-morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold 
Her Clver vifage in the wat'ry glafs. 
Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grafs; 
(A time, that lovers flights doth ftill conceal) 
Through Athens' gate have we devis'd to fteal. 

Her. And in the wood, where often you and I 
Upon faint primrofe-beds were wont to lye. 
Emptying our bofoms of their counfels fweet; ^^ 
There, my Lyfander and myfelf fhall meet : 
And thence from Athens turn away our eyes. 
To feek new friends and ftranger companies. 
Farewel, fweet playfellow : pray thou for us. 
And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius ! 

^ Emptying our hofoms cf their coun/tls fwelPd 5 
There my Lyfander and myfelf Jhall m-et ; 
And thence from Athens turn aioay our eyes. 
To ferine w friends, and J^range companions,] 

This whole fccne is ftriftly in rhyme ; and that it deviates in thefe 
two couplets, I am perfuaded, is owing to the ignorance of the 
firft, and the inaccuracy of the later editors : 1 have therefore 
ventured to reftore the rhymes, as I make no doubt but the poet 
firft gave them. Sweet was eafily corrupted into fweii^d, becaufe 
that made an antit be/is to emptying : and ftrange companions our edi- 
tors thought was plain Englifh ; but ftranger cwnpanies^ a little 
quaint and unintelligible. Our author very often ufes theyi;^ 
ftantioH Stranger adje^ively \ and companies^ to fignify compani'* 
mu.\ as Rich. II. a£t I. 

To tread the ftranger paths of banijbment. 
And Hen. V. 

His Companies u nletttr^d, rude and Jhalloiu, Theobald. 

Dr. Warburton retains the old reading, and perhaps juftifiably. 
Shakefpeare is fometimes negligent in thefe fmall matters ; and a 
hofomfweWd *withfecrets docs not appear as an expreffion unlikely 
to have been ufed by our author, who fpeaks oizftuff^d hcfom ia 
Macbeth. Stesvens. 

Keep 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT's DREAM. 15 

Keep word, Lyfander : — wc muft ftarve our Gght 
From lovers* food, 'till' morrow deep midnight. 

J[Exii Hermia. 

Lyf. I will, my Hermia-^Helena, adieu ; 
As you on him, Demetrius doat on you ! [Exit Lyf. 

HeL How happy fomc, o*er other fome can be ! 
Through Athens I am thought as fair as (he. 
But what of that ? Demetrius thinks not fo : 
He will not know •, what all, but he, do know. 
And as he errs, doating on Hermia's eyes. 
So I, admiring of his qualities. 
Things bafe and vile, holding no * quantity. 
Love can tranfpofe to form and dignity : 
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind % 
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind. 
Nor hath love's mind of any judgment tafte j 
Wings and no eyes figure unheedy hafte ; 
And therefore is love faid to be a child, 
Becaufe in choice he is fo oft beguiled. 
As waggifh boys themfelves in ^ game forfwcar. 
So the boy Love is perjured every where. 
For ere Demetrius look*d on Hermia's cyne, ' 
He hail'd down oaths, that he was only mine ; 

* M9 quamiitji] quality feems a word more fuitable to the fenfe 
tban quantity, out either may ferve. Johnson. 

9 la garni] Game here iignifies not contentious play, but ^^nr/, 
jifi. SoSpenfer, 

^Ttmxt iarnefi and *twixt game. Johnsoh. 

* Hermia* J eyne,] This plural is common both in Chaaccr 

and Spcnfcr. 

Chancer, Pricrcfs Prologue, 153 ; 

— — " hir ejem gray as glas.*' 
Spenfer, F.Q^ b. i. c.4. ft. 9. 

" While flafhing beams do dare his feeble <^.» 

STBBVBNf. 

And 



l6 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT's DREAM. 

And when this hail ' fomc heat from Hermia fed. 

So he diffolv*d, and (howers of oaths did meh. 

I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight : 

Then to the wood will he, to-morrow night, 

Purfue her •, and for this intelligence 

If I have thanks, it is a dear expencc. 

But herein mean I to enrich my pain. 

To have his fight thither, and back again. {Exit. 

;. SCENE 11. 

A COTTAGE. 

Enter Siuince the carpenter^ Snug thejoiner^ Bottom the 
iveaver^ Flute the bellows-tHenderj Snout the tinker^ 
and Starveling the taylor. * 

^n. Is all your company here ? 

Bot. You were bed to call them generally, man 
by man, according to the fcrip. * 

^in. Here is the fcrowl of every man's name, 
whicii is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in 

. ■ — /^//hail] Thus all the editions, except the qaarto, 1600, 
printed by Roberts, which reads inflead oi this hail^ his hail, 

Steevens. 
* In this fccne Shakcfpcarc takes advantage of his knowledge 
of the theatre, to ridicule the prejudices and competitions of the 
players. Bottom, who is generally acknowledged the principal ac- 
tor, declares his inclination to be for a tyrant, for a part of fur)', 
tumult, and noife, fuch as every young man pants to perform 
when he firft fteps upon the ftage. The fame Bottom, who ftems 
bred in a tiring-room, has ano'.hcr hiftrionical paflion. He is for 
eogro^ing every part, and would exclude his inferiors from all 
poffibility of dillinftion He is therefore dofirous to play Pyra- 
mus, Thilbe and the Lyon at the fame time. Johnson. 
^ the fcrip.] kfcrip^ Fr. ffcripi^ now written tait. 
So Chaucer, Troilus and Crcffida, 1. 2. 1 130. 
" ^fr/;^f nor bil." Steevens. 

our 



A MIDSUMMER.NlGHT's DREAM. 17 

our interlude before the duke and dutchefs, on hi^ 
wedding-day at night. 

Bot. Firft, good Peter Quince, fay whit the play 
treats on ; then read the names of the a£tors ; and fo 
♦ grow on to a point, 

^n. Marry our play is— ^The moft lamentable 
comedy, and moil cruel death of Pyramus andThilby* 

Bot. A very good piece of work, I aflure you, 
and a merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth 
your aftors by the fcrowl. Matters, fpread yourfelves* 

^n. Anfwcr, as I call you. — Nick Bottom the 
weaver. 

Bot. Ready 2 name what part I am for, and proceeds 

^in. You, Nick Bottom, are fct down for Pyra- 
mus. 

Boi. What is Pyramus ? a lover^ or a tyrant ? 

^in. A lover, that kills himfelf moft gallantly 
for love* 

Bot. That will a(k fome tears in the true perform-* 
ing of it: if I do it, let the audience look to their 
eyes ; I will move ftorms \ I will condole in fome 
meafure. To the reft ; — yet, my chief humour is for 
a tyraiu! I could play Erclcs rarely, or a part to tear 
a cat in : * To make all fplit — 

<' The 

^ Dr. Warburton r^ad ^d en ; biit grew is ufed^ in allaiion to 
Kis name, Quince. Johnson. 

The quarto reads —^row to a point. 6tee\' ens. 

Anifi groiv on to a piint.] The fenfe, in my opinion, hath been 
Inthertomiflaken; and indead of a point, a Aibdantive, I would rea4 
af point, a verb, that is, appoint what parts each a£lor is to performs 
which is the real cafe. Quince firh tells them the name of the 
play, then calls the adors by their names, and after that, tellt 
each of them what part is fet down for him to aft Warner. 

5 1 could flay BrcUs rarely^ or a fart to ttar a QAT /».] We 
ihould ready 

A part to tear a CkV in, 
for as a ranting whore was called a /^ar-y^ft/, [id Part of Hen. IV.] 
fo a ranting bully was called a /#ar-r/7>. Fpr this reafon it it^ 

Vol. III. C th«. 



1 8 A MtDSUMMER.NIGHT^s DREAlNl 

*« The raging rocks, 
" And fhivcring fhocks 
" Shall break the locks 

«* Of prifon-gatcs : 
" And Phibbus' carr 
« Shall (hine from far, 
** And make and mar 

« The foolifli fates.'* 

This was lofty ! Now name the reft of the players. 
This is Ercles* vein, a tyrant's vein 5 a lover is more 
condoling. 

^in. Francis Flute, the bellows mender. 

• Flu. Here, Peter Quince. 

^dn. You mud rakeThifby on you. 

Flu. What is Thifby, a wandering knight ^ 

^in. It is the lady, that Pyramus muft love. 

Flu. Nay, faith, let me not play a woman ; I have 
a beard coming. 

^«/». That's all one, you fhall play it in amafque^ 
and you may fpeak as fmall as you will. ^ 

Bot. 

the poet makes buUy Bcttom^ as he is called aften\'ards, wlih for 
n part to tear a cap in. Avi^ in the antietit plays, the bombafl and 
the rant held the place of the fublime and pathetic : and. indeed 
conftituted the xtjy cfTence of their tragical hrces. Thus Bali 
in his Adls of Englifli Votaries, part 2d, {zys'^^grenKjny Itkt 
Urmaguanta in a play , Warburton. 

In the old comedy of the Roaring Girl, 161 1, there is a cha* 
rafter called Tcarcat, who fays, I am called, by thofe who have 
*■ (een my valour, Tear -cat.** Jn an anonymous piece called Ht/" 
trUmaftixt or the Flayer iLlipt^ 1610, in fix afts, a parcel of foN 
diers drag a company of players on the flage, and the captaia 
fays, *< Sirrah, this is you that would rend Kudttara cat upon a 
«* {lag:e, cVc." Again, 

In The Ifle of Gulls, a comedy by J. Day, 1606. «< I bad 
*• rather hear two fuch jefts, than a whole play of fuch Tear-cat 
<' thunderclaps." St e evens. 

^ This paffage ihews how the want of women on the old flage 
was fuppUed. If they had not a young man who could perform 

... the 



A IVllDSUMMER-NIGHrs DREAM. 19 

Sdi. An* I may hide my face, let me play Thifby 
too ; ril fpeak in a monftrous little voice, ^hifne^ 
TH/fie : ahj Pyramus^ my lover dear^ thy Thifiy dear^ 
and lady dear. 

^um. No, no, you muff play Pyramus 5 and, Flute; 
you, Thifcy. 

Bot. Weil, proceed. 

Sljdn. Robin Starveling, the taylor. 

Sunr. Here, Peter Quince. 

^^jmv. Robin Starveling, you mull play Thifby's 
mother. ^ 
Tom SxK)wt, the tinker, 

&nm). Here, Peter Quince. 

^/». You, Pyramus's father j myfelf, Thifby's 
father; Snug, the joiner, you, the lion's part: — and 
I hope there is a play fitted. ' 

&nug. Have you the lion's part written ? pray you, 
if it be, give it me, for I am flow of ftudy, 

^uin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing 
but roarinor. 



•o* 



the part with a face that might pafs for feminise^ the' charadler 
was aded in a mafk, which was at that time a part of a lady's 
dreis ib moch in ufe that it did not give any unufual appearance 
to the fcene t and he that could modulate his voice in a female 
lone might play the woman very fucccfsfully. It is obferved in 
Downes^ Memoirs of the Playhoufe, that one of thefe counter* 
feit heroines moved the paffions more ftrongly than the women 
that have fince been brought upon the flage. Some of the cataf- 
trophesof the old comedies, which make lovers marry the wrong 
women, are, by recoUeAion of the commoi) ufe of mafks, brought 
nearer to probability, Johnson. 

* — — jw» muft play Thifift mother,^ ^There feems a double for- 

Sfalne(s of our poet, in relation to the charaders of this inter* 
e. The father and mother of Thifby, and the father of Py- 
ramus, are here mentioned, who do not appear at all in the in- 
terlude ; but Wall and Moondiine are both employed in it, cff 
whom there is not the leail notice taken here. Theobald. 
' ^CTC is a flay fotiJ.] Both the c[uarto's read k-re. 

Stbsvens. 

C 2 B»t. 



JO A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT's DREAM, 

Bot. Let mc play the lion too : I will roar, that I 
will do any man's heart good to hear me. I will 
roar, that I will make the duke fay, let him roar 
again, let him roar again. 

^n. If you ftiould do it too terribly, you would 
fright the dutchefs and the ladies, that they would 
(hriek ; and that were enough to hang us all. 

ylll. That would hang us every mother's fon. 

Bot. I grant you, friends, if you (hould fright the 
ladies out of their wiis, they would have no more dif- 
cretion but to hang us : but I will aggravate my voice 
fo, that I will roar you as gently as any fucking dove; 
I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale. 

!^in. You can play no part but Pyramus : for Py- 
ramus is a fwect-fac'd man -, a proper man, as one 
(hall fee in a fummer's-day ; a moft lovely gentleman- 
like man ; therefore you muft needs play Pyramus. 

Bot. Well, I will undertake it. What beard wtre 
I bcft to play it in ? 

^uin. Why, what you will. 

Bvt. I will difcharge it in either your ftraw-co- 
loured beard, your orange tawny beard, your purple- 
in grain beard, or your French crown-coloured 
beard •, your peifeft yellow. * 

Slu:n. ' Some of your French crowns have no hair 
at all, and then you will play bare-fac'd. But, maf- 
tcrs, here are your parts : and I am to entreat you, 
requeft you, and defire you, to con them by to-mor- 
row night : and meet mc in the palace wood, a mile 

* Here Bottom aeain difcovers a trae genios for the (la^e by his 
folkitude for propriety of drefs, and his deliberation which beard 
to chufe among many beards, all unnatural. Johnson. 

This cuftom of wejtring coloured beards, the reader will find 
more amply explained in Meafure for Meafure, a£l iv. fc. 2. 

Steevens. 

9 That is, a head from which the hair has fallen in one of the 
laft flages of the Ims t/etiireap called the corona *ventris. To this 
our po& has frequent allufions. Steevens. 

without 



A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM, a i 

without the towji, by moon light : there we will re- 
hcarfc : for if we meet in the city, we (hall be do^d 
with company, and our devices known. In the mean 
time I will draw a bill of properties, ' fuch as our 
play wants, I pray you, fail me not. 

Bot. We will meet -, and there we may rehearfc 
more obfcenely and courageoufly. Take pains, hp 
pcrfeft, adieu. 

^in. At the duke's oak we meet. 

£oi. Enough 5 hold, or cut bow-ftrings. *-— 

[Exeunt. 



ACT II. & C E N E L 

A W D. 

Enter a Fdry ^at one doofy and Puck {or Robin-good' 
fellow) at another. 

Puck. 

HO W now, fpirit ! whither wander you ? 
FaL Over hill, over dale, ^ 
Thorough bufh, thorough briar. 

Over 

' Properiiis arc whatevrr little articles arc wanted in a fJay for 
the adorsy according to their refpeftive parts, drefles excepted. 
The perfon who delivers them oat is to this day called the pro» 
ftnjman, Stbevens. ' 

* Jt the auke*s oak %vi meet — ^hold, or cut bow-ftrin^s] This 
proverbial phrafe came originally from the camp. When a rendez- 
vous was appointed, the militia foldiers would frequently make 
excnfe for not keeping word, that their bvwftringt were broki^ 
L e. their arms unferviceable. Hence when one would give ano- 
ther abfolute affurance of meeting him, he would fay proverf»i«^Iy 
^-^^ bold or cut how^ftrings'^'^ut, whether the bow firing held 
or broke. For cut is ufed as a neuter, like the verb/r//i. As when 
we fay, the ftnngfnts^ the filk frcts^ for the paffive, // // cut or 
frttui. War BURTON. 

* Ovir billf cv^r Jalct 5rc.] So Drayton In his Court of Fairy, 

C 3 Tbsrougk 



42 AMIDSUMMER.NIGHrsDREAM. 

Over park, orcrpalc. 

Thorough flood, thorough fire, 

I do wander every where. 

Swifter than the moon's fpherc} 

And I fcrve the fairy queen. 

To dew her orbs * upon the green ; 

The cowflips tall her penGoners be j ^ 

• In their gold coats fpots you fee, 

Thofe be rubies, fairy favours : 

In thofe freckles live their favours : 

1 mud go feek fome dew-drops here. 

And hang a pearl in every cowflip's ear. 

Farewel, thou ^ lob of fpirits. Til be gone ; 

Our queen and all her elves come here aoon. 

Thercugb brake, tharcugh hr'nr^ 
Thorough tKuckf thorough mirtt 
Theroi*gh iLotcfy tborcugh fire, Johnson. 

This poem of Drayton's v/as printed in 1593. Steeveks.^ 

♦ Todenu hir orbs uptn tht grttp{\ For oirbs Dr. Gray is inclined 
to fubftitutc bcrhs. The orbs here mentioned arc the circles fup- 
pofed to be made by the Fairies on the ground^ whofe verdure 
proceeds from the fairy's care to water them. 

They :n th:ir ceur/es make thai roand. 

In miafio*ws and in marjbes founds 

Of them Jo called the fairy ground. Dra YTOH. 

JOHNSOK. 

5 The cowflip was a favourite among the fairies. There is \ 
hint in Drayton of their attention to May morning. 

— For thi quetn a fiting ioiA;*r^ 

^uoth /»/, is that fair cowflip flow'r.— 

Jn all y^^ur frain there's net a fay 

^hat ever nutnt to gather May* 

But Jbe bath made it in her ivay^ 

The uUeft there that ^roixeth. Johnson. 

• In their gold ceats^ fpcts you fcs^ &c.] Shakefpeare, in Cym- 
belioe, refers to the fame it^ fpots. 

A mcle cinqne-fpotted like the crimfou drofs 
r th* bottom of a con^fUp. Percy. 
^ — Lob of ffititsJ] Lobf lubber,. looby, lobcori, all denote botl| 

Jnj^iiviiy of body and ivXutb of mind. Johnson, 

Puck. 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHrs DREAM. 23 
Vnck. The king doth keep his revels here to-night 5 
Take heed, the queen pome not within his fight. 
For Oberon is pailina felt and wrath, 
BecauTe that (he, as her attendant, hath 
A lovcJy boy, ftol'n from an Indian king ; 
She never had fo fweet a changeling; ' 
And jealous Oberon would have the child 
Knight of his trsiin, to trace the forefts wild ; 
But fhc per-force, with-holds the loved boy. 
Crowns him with Sowers, a;id makes him all her joy. 
And now they never meet in grove, or green. 
By fountain clear^ pr fpangled (lar-light jQieen, » 
But they do fquare ' \ that all their elves, for fear. 
Creep into acorn cups, and hide them there. 

Fai. Either I miftakeyour Ihape and making quite^ 
Or elfe you are that fhrcwd, and knaviih Iprite/ 
Caird RMntood'ftlhw ^ Arc you not he. 
That fright the maidens of the viilag'ry -, 

Skim 

' "-^CbangiUngJ^ ChangtUnf is comnionly ufed for the child 
Aippofed to be left by the fairies, but here for the child takca 
away, Johnson. " ' . 

> '^Sbun^l Shining^ bright, gay. Johnson. 

' But t bey de /quart.'] To y^irarr here is to quarrel. 

And nowycu are fucb fools to fquare y^ thii T Gray. 
The French word tontncarrer has the fame import. Johnson. 

' Robin-g0oi'ftlloiu\\ This account of Robin-good-fcllowcorre- 
fponds, in every article, with that given of him in Har/enet*s Decla- 
ration, ch. xx. p. 1 39 : '< And if that the bowle of curds and creame 
" were not duly fetout for Robin-good-fellow, the frier, aod. SiiTe 
" the dairy-maid, why then either the pottage was burnt to next 
*< day in the pot, or the cheefes would not curdle, or the butter 

would not come, or the ale in the fat never would have got 



head. But if a paternofter, or an houfl&-eggc wcrebcturned, 
or a patch of tythe unpaid — then beware of bull- beggars, .f^i* 
rits, &c." He is mentioned by Cartwright 99 a ipirit parti- 



cularly fond of difconcerting and difturbiog domeftick peace and 
economy. 

SiBunt FrancU andSaimt BeneMgbt 

Bleffe tbit bwfe Jtwn wicked luigbt % 



24 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT^s DREAM. 

Skim milk; and fomctimcs labour in the quern, ♦ 
And bootlcfs make the brcathlcfs hufwife churn : 
And fometime make the drink to bear no barm ; ^ 
Mil^lcad night- wanderers, laughing at tl^eir harm ? 
Thofe that Hotgoblin call you, and fweet Puck, • 
You do their work, and they Ihajl have good luck. 

Arc 

From the night-mare and the gett'm^ 
That iihight good-feUnu Robin* 
Kifp itf &c. 

Cartwrigjit'j OT^lnaiy, ad iii. fc. i . v. 8. 

Warton. 
Reginald Scot gives the fame account of this frolickfbme fpirit, 
in his Difcovcry of Witchcraft, Lond. 1588. 410. p. 66 " Your 
f* grandames, maids, were wont to fet a bowl of i^^iilk for him, 
ff for his pains in grinding of malt and muflard, and fweepiiig 
•< the home at midnight — this white bread and bread and luilk, 
f« was his ftanding fee.'' STEEVEits, 

^ Skim milkf anifimitimts labour imthefunn, 
JtuI booth f$ make the breathleftba/wife churn,'] 
The fcnfe of thcfe lines is confufed. Are not you he, fays the foiry, 
that /right the fountry girls j that Jkim milk, 'work in the hand-mill^ 
and maki the tired dairy-tvoman churn without tfftS ? The mention 
of the mill feems out of place, for fhe is not now telling the good 
{)ut the evil that he does. I would regulate the lines thus : 
And fometimes make the breathhf$ hou/enuife chur^ 
Skim milk, and boot left labour in the queru% 
Or by a fimple tranfpofition of the lines ; 

And bootUf$, make the breathlefs hovfennift churn 
Skim milk, and fometimes lahur in the quern. 
Yet there is no necef&ty of alteration. Joh n ^on . 
s Barme, a name for yenfl, yet ufed in the midland counties. 
So in Mother Bombie, a Comedy, 1594: *« It behoveih my wit| 
f « to work like barme, alias yeaft." 

iVgain in the Humourous Lieutenant, of B. and Fletcher : 
** I think my brains will work yet without barm^** 

Steevens. 
• Thofe that Hobgoblin call you ^ and fnuett Puck^ 
Yon do their oucr^.] 

•J*o thofe traditionary opinions Milton has reference in L'AUcgro^ 
Ti:en to the fpicy nut-brown «//,-*-^ 
With for iei told of many a feat, 
H.'w fat^y Mab i^e junkets ioi | 



A MIDSUMMER.NIGHrs DREAM, ttg 

A« not you he? 

Puck. Thou fpeak*ft aright ; ^ 
I am that merry wanderer of the night : 
I jeft to Oberon, and make him fmile. 
When I a fat and bean -fed horfe beguile^ 
Neighing in likenefs of a filly foal : 
And fometimes lurk I in a goffip's bowU 

She wasfimcPii andfulVdPftfald, 
And he iy Frier* s lanthorn led ; ^ 

Tells hew the drudging goblin /wiat 
' To earn his cream-bonul duly fet, 
When in one night ere glmf/e of mom 
His Jbade^joy flail had thrtjb^d the com 
Which ten dey-labourers could not end^ 
, Then lies him dawn the lubber /irW. 

A like accoont of Pack is given by Diiytpn, ^ 

He meeteth Puck^ which moft men call 
Hobgoblin f and on him doth /alL^-^ 
This Puck feemt but a dreaming dolt^ 
Still tvaliing like a ragged co/t, 
jind ofiont tfa bed doth bolt, 

Offurpofe to decei*ue us ; 
And leadings makes ns toftrey^ 
Long winter's nights out of the wey^ 
And njuhen we fiick in mire and c ley p 

He doth *with laughter. lea*ve us* 

It will be apparent to him that fliall compare Drayton's poeor 
with this p|ay, that either one of the poets copied the other, or« 
^ I rather believe, that there was then fome lyflem of the r fairy 
empire generally received, which they both reprcfented as ac- 
curately as they could. Whether Drayton or Shakefpeare wrote 
^rft, I Cfuinot difcover. Johnson. 

f Puck. Thou fpeaVft aright.] I have fijled up the verfe which 
J fuppofe the author leA complete, 

It feenrs that in the Fairy mythology Puck, or Hobgoblin, was 
the trufty fcrvant of Oberon, and always employed to watch or 
deteft the intrigues of Queen Mab, called by Shakefpeare Tita* 
nia. For in Drayton's* Nymphidia, the fame fairies are engaged 
in the fame bufinefs. Mab has an amour with Pigwiggen ; Obe- 
Ipn being jealous, fends Hobgoblin to catch them, and one of 
(ilab's nymphs oppofes him by a fpell. Johnson. 



26 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM- 

In very likencls of a roaftcd crab, ' . 

And, when fhe drinks, againil her lips I bob» 
And on her withered dew-lap pour the ale. 
The wifeil aunt, telling the faddeft tale. 
Sometime for three-foot ftool miftaketh me; 
Then flip I from her bum, down topples fhe. 
And tailor cries, and falls into a cough : ' 
And then the whole quire hold their hips and lofFe, 
5 And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, andfwear, 
A merrier hour was never wafted there. — 
But ' room. Faery, here comes Oberon. 
Fai. And here my miftrefs. — Would that we were 
gone ! 

S C E N E II. 

Enter Oheron^ king of Fairies^ at one door with bis train% 
and the queen at another with hers. 

Ob. Ill met by moon-light, proud Titania. 

S^een. What, jealous Oberon ? Fairies, flcip hencej 
I have forfworn his bed and company. 

Ob, Tarry, rafli wanton •, am not I thy lord ? 

^een. Then I muft be thy lady ; but I know. 
When thou haft ftol'n away from fairy land. 
And in the fhape of Corin fate all day. 
Playing on pipes of corn, and verfing love 
To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here, 
Come ixom the further fteep of India ? 
But that, forfooth, the bouncing Amazon, 

' j4nd taiUr cTUi\ The cuftom of crying laihr at a fadjeft 
fall backwards, 1 thinic I remember to have obierved. He that 
flips befide his chair falls as a taylor fqaats upon his board. The 
Oyford editor and Dr. Warburton after him^ xt2A and rsiih or 
critt^ plaufibly» but I believe not rightly. Befides, the trick of 
the fairy is reprefented as producing rather merriment than anger. 

Johnson. 

■* And nttaxtn.^ And incwtaft^ as the m^on waxts. Johhsoh. 

* AH the old copies icad— ^«/ fom Fairy. The word Fairy or 
Farry, Was fometimcs of three fyllables^ as often in Spenfer. 

Johnson. 

Your 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. 17*^ 

' Your bufkin'd miSrfrefs and your warrior love. 
To Thefeus muft be wedded : and you cooic 
To give their bed joy and profperity. 

Ob. How can'ft thou thus for Ihamei Titania, 
Glance at my credit with Hippolita ; 
Knowing, I know thy love to Thefeus ? 
Didft thou not lead him through the glimmering 
night * 
- From Perigune, whom he ravilhed; ' 
And make him with fair ^gle break his faith^ 
With Ariadne, and Antiopa ? 

^een. Thefe are the forgeries of jealoufy : 
And never, fince the middle fummer's fpring, * 
Met we on hill, in dale, forcfi:, or mead, 

Bjr 

* Didfi thou not had him through the glimmering night.] Wc 
ihoaldread, 

Di^ft thou not load him glimmering through the night. 

The meaning is. She conducted him in the appearance of ^tt 
through the dark night. Warburton. 

^ From Perigfuia^ tvhcm he raviflnd i\ Thus all the editors ; 
hot our author, who diligently perosM Plutarch, and glean'd 
from him, where his fubjed would admit, knew, from the life 
of Theieus, that her name was Pcrigyne, (or Perigune) by whom 
Thefeus had his fon Melanippus. She was the daughter of Sin- 
niS) a cruel robber, and tormentor of paffengers in the Ifthmus. 
Plutarch and Athenaeus are both^exprefs in the circumftance of 
Thefeus ravi(hing her. Theobaj.0. 

iEgle, Ariadne, and Antiopa were all at different times mif- 
VttKt% to Thefeus. See Plutarch. Steivens. 

* And nivtr Jtna the middle ftmmtr^s fpringj &c.] There are 
|iot many paflages in Shakefpeare which one can be certain he ' 
has borrowed from the andents ; but this is one of the few that, 
I think, will admit of no difpute. Our author's admirable defcrip- 
tion of the mifericb of the country being plainly an imitation of 
diat which Ovid draws, as confequent on the grief of Ceres, for 
the lofs of her daughter. 

Nf/cit ad hue u hi fit : terras tamen increfat omnes : 
Imgratafque vecat^ nee frugum munere dignai. 
■ ^^g^ 'V/'V f^e'va <vertentia gUhas 

f regit aratramanu parik^ue it at a colonos 



i8 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT's DREAM, 

By paved fountain, or by ruftiy brook, * 
Or on the beached margcnt of the fca, 
To dance our ringlets to the whittling wind. 
But with thy brawls thou haft difturb'd our fport# 
Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, * 
As in revenge, have fuck'd up from the fea 
Contagious fogs ; which falling in the land9 
Have every ^ pelting river made fo proud. 
That they have over-born their continents, * 
The ox hath therefore ftretch'd his yoke in vain, 
The ploughman loft his fweat ; and the greei;^ 9^i'A 

Ruricela/qi/4 loves Uth ieiit : urfoaque juffU 
Fallere depofitum vitiataque femlna fecit. 
Ftrtilitas terra latum <vulgata per orhem 
Spar/a jacet, Primis fegetes moriuntur in herbis. 
Et modo fol nimius^ nimius modo corripit imber : 
Sideraque ventique nocent. 
T^ £ mitidli /ummer^s fpring, ] We fliould read that. For it 
appears to have been fome years iaicc the quarrel firft began. 

Warburton. 
By the miidlt fummtr*$ /pring^ our author fecxns to mean the 
higinning of middle or mid Aimmcr. Spring for beginning our au* 
thor again ufes : 2d. P. Hen. IV. 

As flaws cengealed in the fpring cf day. 
which expreffion has its original from fcripture, St. Luke, c. L 
V. 7S. " whereby theday-/;r/Ǥr from on high hath vifited us." 

Ovid had been tranflatcd by Golding:— the firft four books in 
1565. and all the reft, in a few years afterwards. Ste evens. 
^ Pa-ved Fountain,'] A fountain laid round the edge with Hone* 

JOHNSOH^ 

* — tire winds piping] So Milton, 

fFhiJe re ding ivtJtds are piping loud. Johnsok. 

7 -pelting ri*ver,] Thus the quarto's: the folio reads ^/(y. 

Shakefpeare has in Lear the fame word, low pelting farms ^ The 
meaning is plainly, de/piaile^ mean, forty y wretched \ but as it 
is a word without any reafonable etymology, J ihould be glad to 
difmifs it for petty^ yet it is undoubtedly right. We hzwt petty 
/f///>r|' 0^V^in Meafure for Meafure. Johnson. 

' Overborn their continents.] Born down the banks that cob- 
<uined them. So in Lear, 

Clofe pent guilts 
Rive their concealing continents. JoHifseN. 

Hath 



A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. ^9 

Hath rotted, crc his youth attained a beard. 
The fold ftands empty in the drowned field. 
And crows are fatted with the murrain flock : 
The ninc-mcns morris is fiird up with mud, * 
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green. 
For lack of tread, are undiftinguilhable. 
The human mortals want their winter here, • 

No 

' Tie ntMi'-mins morrtj,] This was fome kind of raral g^e 
played in a marked ground. But what it was more I have not 
mnd. Johnson. 

* The human mortals want their winter herb] B ut fore it wa» 
sot one of the circumftances of mifery, here recapitulated , that 
the fuii«rers wanted their <winter. On the contrary, in the poeti- 
cal defcriptions of the golden age, it was always one circumflance 
of their nappinefs that they wanted winter. This is an idle 
Unnder of the editors. Shakefpeare without queftion wrote. 

The human mortals want their winter h E a Y E D, 
L e. praifed, celebrateid. The word is obfolete; but ufed both 
by Chaucer and Spencer in this flgni£catioB, 

Tbo* wouldefi thou learnt to cakqll of love^ 
And HERY with HYMNRS thy lajfc^s glotn. 

Spenc. Cal. Feb, 
The following line confirms the emendation. 

1^0 night is new with Hymn or Carol hiefi ; 

tnd the propriety of the fentiment is evident. For the winter is 
the feafon of rural rejoicing, as the gloominefs of it and its va- 
cancy from country labours give them the inclination and opportU" 
nity for mirth ; and the fruits, now gathered in, the means. Well 
therefore might (he fay, when (he had defcribed the dearths of 
the (eafons and fruitlefs toil of the hufbandmcn, that 

The human mortals want their winter herycd. 
Bat» principally, fmce the coming of Chriftianity this feafon, in 
commemoration of the birth of Chrifl, has been particularly de- 
voted to feftivity. And to thiscuftom, notwithAanding the im- 
gx>priety, Hpnn or Carol hlcft certainly alludes. Mr. Theobald 
ys, he ffuld undoubtedly hafve adfvanced this coyeffure unto the text, 
hut that Shal.^peare feems rather fond of hallo^w^d. Rather than 
what? hallowed i^ not fynonymous to heryed hut to bUJl. What 
was he thinking of? The ambiguity of the £ngli(h word hleji 
confounded him, which (igniiies thhfif prai»*d or fanSHfied. 

Warburton. 

After 



30 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHTs DREAMi 

No night is now with hymn or carol blcft. 
Therefore the moon, the goveroeis of floods, 

[Pale 

After all die endearoun of theediton, thb pafiage ftfll nmaiiit 
to me unintelligibk. 1 caooot fee whjr winter is, n the geacnl 
confufion of the year ik>w defcribed, more wanted than any other 
ieafon. Dr. Warborton obTerves that he alludes toour j>raaice of 
iinging carols in December; but though ShakeQ)eare is no mat 
chnmologer in his dramas, I think he has never fo mingledtrue 
and falfe religion, as to give as reaibn for believing that he would 
make the moon incenfed for the omiffion of oar carols. I there* 
fyn imagine him to have meant heathen rites of adoration. This 
is not all the difficulty. Titania's account of this calamity is not 
fnfficiently confcqaential. Minjiuin9 ijoinier^ therefore they fing 
no hymns ; the moon provoked by this omiffion, alters the fea* 
ions : that is, the alteration of the feafons produces the alteratioii 
of the feafons. I am far from fuppofing that Shakeipeare might' 
sot ibmetimes think confufedly, and therefore am not fure that 
the paflTflge is corrupted. If we (honld read, 

JftJ buman mortals nxauit their wonted year, 

yet will not this licence of alteration much mend the narrative ; 
the caufe and the tffeB. are flill confounded. Let us carry criti- 
cal temerity a little further. Scaliger tranfpofed the lines of Vir- 
girs Gallus. Why may not the fame experiment be ventured 
npon Shakefpeare. 

The human mortah ivant their wonted year, 
Tht/ea/ofis alter ; heary-btaded frtfts 
Falliu the frtjh lap of the crimjon reft ; 
And on old Hyems' ebiuj and icy eroiuw^ "^ 
An odorous cbap'et of fwett fummer hnds 
/i, as in mod^ry fet. The fpringy the fssmvur^ 
The ebilding autumn^ ^"g^y 'Ufintcr^ change 
Their 'wontid li'veriej ; and the *maKed nnorld^ 
By their increafe^ now ino*ws net tvh'ch is <ujbicbt 
h'o night is nonu tJL'ith hymn or carol hlefi \ 
Therefore the mton, the governefi of floods ^ 
Pale in her anger ^ *wajhes all tbi air ; 
And thorowgb this dijlemperature^ ^we fee 
That rhemmatick difeafes do abound. 
And this fame progeny of e*vil comes 
From our debate, from our d'ffenfeon. 
I know not what credit the reader will give to this emendation, 
which J do not much credit myfelf. Johnson. 

The confufion of feafons here defcribcd, is no more than a poeti- 
cal account of the weather, which happened in England about the 
' time 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT's DREAM. j| 

Pale in her anger w4(hes all the air ; 

That rheumacick difeafes do abound. 

And, thorough this diftemperature, we fee 

The feafons alter ^ hoary-headed frofts 

Fall in the frefh lap of the crimfon rofe ; 

And on old Hyems* chin, * and icy crown. 

An odorous chaplet o£ fweet fcmmer-buds 

Js^ as in mockery, fet. The fpring, the fummer^ 

The cbikiing autumn \ angry winter, change 

Their wonted liveries ^ and the 'mazed world. 

By theh: increase, now knows not which is which ; ^ 

And this fame progeny of evils comes 

fVbm our debate, from our diflenfion ; 

We are their parents and original. 

Ot. Do you amend it then, it lies in you. 
Why (hould Titania crofs her Oberon ? 
I do but beg a little changeling boy. 
To be my henchman. ^ 

%at wfien this play was firft pttbliflied. For this information I 
tm indebted to chance, which furnifhed me with a few leaves of 
to old me teorological hiftory. SrsfivENs. 

« — Hyems' thifi.] Dr. Qrayy not inelegantly conjedtures, that 
the poet wrote, 

— " On old Hyems* chill and icy crown." 

It IS not indeed eafy to difcover lu>w a chaplet can be placed on 
ihicbiM, Steivens. 
' TbecbiUiM^ lautumny'] is the pregnant autumn ^fmgifrr autumnu9» 

St E EVENS. 

♦ if their increa/e.'] That is, By their fr9duee. Johnsoh. 
' Junchman.'] Page of honour. This office was abolifhed by^ 
foeen Elizabeth. Gray. 

The office might be abolifhed at court, but probably remained 
in the city. Glapthorne, in his comedy called Wit in a Con- 
Itabie, 1^37, has this pafTage: 

*' I will teach his hench^boys^ 
<< Serjeants, and trumpeters to ad, and (ave 
- " The city all that charges." 
Soagun, 

*« When (he was lady may'rcft, and jrou humble 
** As her trim bincb^h§ys.** 

Agai» 



32 A MlDSUMMER-NlGHT's DREAKf^ 

^een. Set your heart at reft. 
The fairy land buys not the child of mc^ 
His mother was a votrefs of my order. 
And, in the fpiced Indian air, by night. 
Full often Ihe hath gofllp'd by my fide ; 
And fat with me on Neptune's yellow fands. 
Marking the embarked traders on the flood. 
When we have laugh'd to fee the fails conceive. 
And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind : 
Which (he, with pretty and with fwimming gate. 
Following, her womb then rich with my young'fquire/ 
Would imitate ; and fail upon the land. 

To 

AgSLiDy in Ben Jonfon's Chriflmas Mafque,-^*' he faid grace at 
•* well as any of the (hcrifF's bench^hys, Stebvens. 

Upon the eftabliihment of the houfehold of Edward IV. wen^ 
htnxman fix enfantst or more^ as it pkyfitb the king^ tatinge in tbt 
tallif 8cc. There was Moa matfier of tbt binxmin^ to Jbewi tbtm 
tbifcboole of nurture^ and learm ibem to riJe^ to tviar tbiir barm^fpt ; 
to Jtavt allcuriefii — to teacb tbem all languages^ and other <virtMes, as 
barpinge^ pypifigty fiig*»gfy dauncingty tuitb bontfi heba*viourt 9f 
ttmptraunct and patyencf, MS. Harl. 293. 

At the funeral of Henry VIll. nmt btncbmen attended with fir 
Francis Bryan, mafler oftbe bfncbmew. • 

Strype's EccL Mem. v. 2. App. n. i. T.T^ 

* If bleb Jh: 'wiih pretty and <wi!b f*wimming gate 
Following (^/&fr <womb tbm ricb loitb my young YquireJ 
Wculd imitate ] 

Following what ? fhe did not follow the (hip, whofe motion ihc 
imitated : for that failed on the water, (he on the land. If by 
foUowingj we are to undcrftand imitating^ it will be a mere plc- 
onafm — imitating nvouid imi/ate. From the poet's defcription of 
the adlions, it plainly appears we Ihould read, 

FOLLYING— — • 

Witdd imitate I 
i. e. wantoning in fport and gaiety. Thus the old Englifh writ* 

erS' and they bdit<ven FOLYLY and faljly fays fir J. Mann* 

deville, from and in the fenfe oi fcldtrer^ to play the wanton. 

This exadlly agrees to the adion dcfcribed full efun bat fit 

gojftpt by my fide — and— *m;Zy« *ix:e haie laugb^d to fee. 

Warburtok. 
The foregoing note is very ingenious, but fincc follying is a 
word of which 1 know not any example, and the Fairy's favour- 
ite 



A MIDSUNiMER-NIGHrs t)REAM. 3 j 

To fetch me trifles, and return again. 
As from a voyage, rich with merchandize. 
But (he, being mortal, of that boy did die 5 
And, for her fake, I do rear up her boy j 
And, for her fake, I will not part with him. 

Ob. How long within this wood intend you ftay ? 

^een. Perchance, till after Thefcus' wedding-day* 
If you will patiently dance in our round. 
And fee our moon-light revels, go with us -, 
if hotj (hun me,' and I will fpare your haunts. 

Ob. Give me that boy, and I will go with thee. 

^M€en» Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away: 
We Ihall chide down-right, if I longer ftay. 

[Exeunt '^cen^ and her traifff 

Ob. Well, go thy way : thou Ihalt not from this 
grovcj 
*Till I torment thee for this injury. — 
My gentle Puck, come hithef j thou remember*ft ^ 

Since 

lite might, without much licentioufnefs of language^ be faid to 
ftikvi a (hip that failed in the direction of the coaft ; I think 
ibcrc is no lu^cient reafon for adopting it. The coinage of new 
Words is a violent remedy^ not to be ofed bat in the lad neceffity* 

Johnson. 

^ — ^ ^— /i&«» rtmemhtr*Ji 

Sinct omt IJat upon a profoonlory^ 
^fid htard a mermaid on a dolphin's backf 
Uttering fucb duLit and batmonious hreatk^ 
That the rude/ea gniv ci-vil at htr fong ; 
And ctrtain ftars Jhot madly /rem their fpbtra 
To bear the fea-maid^s mufick ■ -■] 
Thefirft thing obfervahle on theie words is^ that this adion of the 
mermaid is laid in the fame time ^nd place with Cupid*s attack 
npon the mejial. By the *oefial every one knows is meant queen 
fiiizabeth. It is very natural and reafonable then to think that 
the mkmuiid (lands for fome eminent perfonage of her time. And 
if ib, the allegorical covering, in which there is a mixture of fa* 
tire and panegyric, will lead us to conclude, chat this perfon was 
one of whom it had been inconvenient for the author to fpcak 
Openly, either in praife or difpraii'e. AW this agrees with Mary 
queeo of Scots^ and with bo other. (^ Elizabeih could not beai 
VoLi IIL D to 



34 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT^s D&EAM; 

Since once I fat upon a protnontoiy, 

And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back. 

Uttering fuch dulcet and harmonious breath. 

That the rude fea grew civil at her fong ; 

And certain Ihrs Ihot madly from their fpheres. 

To hear the fea-maid's mufick. 

Puck. 

to hear her commended.; and her fucceObr would not forgive her 
fatyrill. But the poet hat fo wel] marked out every diftineuifhed 
circumflance of her life and character in this beautiful aHeeory, 
as will leave no room to doubt about his fecret meaniag. Sne is 
called a mermaiJ^ i . to denote her reign over a kingdom fitoate 
in the fea, and 2. her beauty, and intemperate lull, 
Ut iurpitir atrum 
Definat in pifcem muiitr formofa fuptrne, 
fbr as Elizabeth for her chaftity is called a nfeficd^ this unfoituaate 
lady on a contrary account is called 2i mermaid, 3. An ancient 
llory may be fuppofcd to be here alluded t6» The emperor Julias 
tells us, Epidle 4.1. that the Sirens (which, with all the modern 
poecs, arc mtf maids) contended for precedency with the Mufes, 
who overcoming them took away their wings. The quarrels be- 
tween Mary and Elizabeth had the fame caufe, and the fame 
ifTue. 

trt a ddphifCi hach^ This evidently marks out that 

diltinguiihing circumiiance of Mary's fortune, her marriage with 
the dauphin of France, fon of Henry II. 

Uttennjr /ucb\dulcet and harmonious treat b^"] This alludes to her 
great abilities of genius and learning, which rendered her the moft 
accompli (hed princefs of her age. The French writers tell us, 
that, while fhe was in that court, fhe pronounced a Latin oratioa 
in the great hall of the Louvre, with fo much grace and eloquence^ 
as filled the whole court with admiration. 

That the rude/ a grena ci*vil at ber/cng ;] By the rude fea is meant 
Scotland encircled with the ocean ; which rofe up in arms againft 
the regent, while (he was in France. But her return home pre- 
fently quieted thofe diforders : and had not her (Irange ill condu^ 
afterwards more violently inflamed them, (he might have paiTed 
her whole life in peace. There is the greater jullnefs and beaut/ 
in this image, as the vulvar opinion is, that the mermaid alwaya 
£ngs in ftorms. 

Jn 4 certain Jiarsjhot madly from tbiirffberts 
To bear tkefea-maid^s mu/ick,] 
Thus concludes the defcription, ^ith that remarkable circum((ance 
of this unhappy lady's fac«i the deftru^ion fhe brought upon feve- 

tal 



A MIDSUMMEfc-NIGHT^a DREAM, a 

Puck. I remember. 

0^, That very time 1 fiiw, (but thow could'ft not) 
Flying between. the cold moon and the earthy 
Cupid all-arm'd : a certain aim he took,^ 

of tlie Engli(h nobility, whom fhe drew in to fupport ber cauie^ 
Thisy in the boldeft expreflion of the fublime, the poet images by 
ttrtain fian Jhcot>ng madly froT. thtir fpherti : By which he meant 
the earls of Northainberland and Wefhnorland, who fell in her 
qoarrei ; and principally the g/eat duke of Norfolk, whofe pro* 
jeded marriage with her was attended with fuch fatal confequencei 4 
Here again the reader may obfenre a peculiar juHnefs in thd 
imagery. The rulgar opinion being that the mermaid allured 
men to deftniAion by her fongs. To which opinion Shakefpeartf 
allades iu his Cmedy •/ Errors^ 

O /ra/ffM««o/,/w«// mermaid, with thy note^ 
To drown me in thy fijt r* i food of tears. 

On the whole, it is the noblcft andjuftcft allegory. that was ev^lf 
written. The laying it infatry lavd, and c\jt of nature, is in thd 
charader of the fpcaker. And on thefe occafions Shakefpeare al- 
ways excels himfelf. He is borne away by the magic cf his en- 
thiifiaifin, and hurries his reader aloug with him into thefe ancient 
tcgions of poetry, by that power of verfe, vvhicli we may well 
fancy to be like what, 

Oiim Fount Vaufyut camianf, W a R B u rton . 

• CMf/d all-armed : ] Surely, this prefents us with a very 

BDclaffical image. Where do we read or Le, in ancient books, or 
IDOnamentSi Cupid armed more than with hib b >w and arrow ; and 
witbthefc we for ever fee him armed. And thefe are all the arms 
he had occafion for in this prei^^ntadlion; a more illuflrious one 
than any, hh friends, the clafHcks, ever brought him upon.-— — 
The change I make is fo fmall, but the beauty of the thought fa 
great, wluch this alteration carries with it, that, I think, we are 
not CO heiitate upon it. For what an addition is this to the com- 
pliment made upon this virgin queen's celibacy, that it alarmtdt 
the power of lo^? as if his empire was in danger, when this im- 
firial'v.'.re/t had declared herfelf for a fingle life : fo powerful 
woaid her gremt example bein the world.-— Queen Elizabeth could 
Mt bot be pleafied with our author's addrefs upon this head. 

Warburtow. 
JH-armedy does not iignify drejid in panoply, but only enforces 
the word armedt as we might fay all- looted, I am afraid that the 
general fcnfc ofalarmid, by which it is ufed for /•/ into fear or 
Mf# by <whmiiver €au/i, is later than our aattroar. John son. 

D 2 " At 



36 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHrs DREAM, 

At a fair vcftal, throned by the weft. 

And loos'd his lovc-fhaft fmartly from his bow. 

As icihould pierce a hundred choufand hearts : 

But I might fee young Cupid*s fiery (haft 

Quench'a in the chafle beams of the watery moon. 

And the imperial votrefs paffed on. 

In maiden meditation, fancy-free. 

Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fejil. 

It fell upon a little weftern flower ; 

Before, milk-white;^ now purple with love's wound. 

And maidens call it, love in idlenefs.' 

Fetch me that flower ; the herb I (hew'd thee once ; 

The juice of it, on fleeping eye-lids laid. 

Will make or man, or woman, madly doat 

Upon the next live creature that it fees. 

Fetch me this herb ; and be thou here again. 

Ere the leviathan can fwim a league. 

Puck. I'll put a girdle round about the earth 
In forty minutes. [Exii. 

Ob. Having once this juice, 

• Andmaidins lall it lo*vi in idLne/s.] This is as fine a metamor* 
phoiis as any in Ovid : With a macb better moral, intimating 
that irregular loVe has only power whe A people are idle, or not 
well employed. Warburton. 

I believe the fmgular beauty of this metamorphofis to have beea 
quite accidental, as the poet is of another opinion, in the Taming 
thtUrew, Aai. Sc. 4. 

But fee, while idly I flood looking on, 

I found th' eifedl of/o^ueiu idienf/s^ 

And now in plainaefs I confe(s to thee, 

Trania, 1 burn, I pine, I perifh, Tranio, 

If I atchieve not this yoang m»deji girl. 
And Lacentio's was furely a regular and honed pailion. It U fcarce 
necefTary to mention that /rue inidlnu/s is a flower. Taylor, the 
water poet, quibbling on the names of plants, mentions it as 
follows : 

'' When paflions arelqcloofe without a bridle, 

** Then precious timi is tum'd to lovi in idleV 

^TfiKVKNS. 



,A MiPSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 37 

Til watch Titania when (he is aflcep. 
And. drop the liquor of it in her eyes: 
The next thing then (he wakipg looks upon, 
(Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull. 
On meddling monkey, or on bufy ape) 
She (hall purfue it with the foul of love : 
And^erel take this charm off from her (aght, 
(As I can take it with another herb) 
rJl make her render up her page to me. 
But who comes here ? 1 am invifible •, ' 
And I will over-hear their conferenjce^ 

Enter Demefms^ Helena following him. 

Dem. I love thee not, therefore purfue me not. 
Where is Lyfander, and fair Hermia ? 
The one Til (lay j the other (layeth me.* 
Thou told'ftmc, they were (toln into this wood^ 
And here am I, and wode within this wood ^ ' 

Becauffc 

" 1 am invifible.] I thought proper here to obferve, 

that, as Oberoa and Puck hi& attendant, mzy, be frequently ob« 
fenred to (peak, when there is' no mention of their entering ; they 
are defigned by the poet to be fuppofed on the flage during the 
greateft part of the remainder of the play ; and to mix, as they 
pleafe, as fpirits^ with the other actors ; and embroil the plot, by 
their interpofition, without being feen, or heard, but when to 
thdrown purpofe. Theobald. 

^ Tiff ami ril flay : tbiothtr ftayeth «if.] Thus it has been in 
all the editions hitherto : but Dr. Thirlby ingenioufly faw, .it mud 
be, as I have corrected in the text. Theobald. 

' anil wode, ■ ] Wood, vr mad, wild, rav- 

iog. Pope. 
We meet with the word in Chaucer, The Monkeys Prologtit^ 184, 

** What, fhould he fludy, or make himfelf wW^ 
Spenfer alfo ufcs ic, ^glogue III. March, 

The elf was fo wanton, and fo weJe, 

" The name fFoJea," fays Verflegan in his An/ijvifes, *• fignifies 
" fierce or furious, and in like fenfe we ftill retain it, faying* when 
** one is in a great rage^ that he is weed, or Uketh on, as if he 
** were mco^d. 

P 3 6« 



j8 A MIDSUMMER.NlGHrs DREAM 

Brcaufc I cannot meet my Hermia. 

Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more. 

Hel. You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant | 
But yet you draw not iron, for my heart 
Is true as ftetrl : — Leave you your power to draw. 
And I (hall have no power to follow you. 

Dem. Do I entice you ? Do I fpeak yoU f^r ? 
Or, rather, do I not in plaineft truth 
Tell you, — I do not, nor I Cannot love you ? 

Hel. And even for that do I love you the more \ 
I am your fpanicl ; and, Demetrius, 
The more you beat me, I will fawn on you : 
Ufe me but as your fpaniel, fpurn me, (Irike me, 
Negled me, lofe me ; only give roe leave. 
Unworthy as I am, to follow you. 
What worfer place can I beg in your love, 
(And yet a place of high refped with me) 
Than to be uied, as you ufe your dog ? 

Dem Tempt not too much the hatred of my fpiritj 
f*or I am fick, when I do look on thee. 

Hel. And 1 am (ick, when i look not on you. 

Dem. You do impeach your modefty too much, 
To leave the city, and commit yourfelf 
Into the hands of one that loves you not ^ 
To truft the opportunity of night. 
And the ill counfcl of adefart place, 
With the rich worth of your virginity. 

llcL Your virtue is my privilege. For that 
|t is not night when I do fee yoqr face, ♦ 

So St;iv^ur(l, in his Tranflation of the Second Book of r/>f/V*i 
J^ntid^ 1582, fpeaking of CafTaiidra, 

« Lo ycy the nnood virgin, with locks unbroided is haled." 

ST£EVERS. 

^ . — Ft that 

It is not nighty *uhen I do fee ytur fac»^ &c»] 
TiUB papfage is paraphrafed from two lines of an ancient poet,, ' 
Tu nofii 'uel mtra 
Luauttp et in/olis tumihiturba locis. Johnson* 

There- 



A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 39 

Therefore, I think, I am noc in the night : 
Nor doth thia wood lack worlds of company ; 
For you in my r^fpeft are all the world. 
Then how can it be faid, I am alone. 
When all the world is here to look on me ? 

Bern, ril run from thee, and hide me in the brakes. 
And leave thee to the mercy of wild beafts. 

//(?/. The wildeft hach not fuch a heart as you. 
. Run when you will, the ftory (hall be chang'ci : 
Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chafe ; 
The dove purfues the griffin ; the mild hind 
Makes fpeed to catch the tygcr : — Bootlefs fpeed ! 
When cowardice purfues, and valour flies. 

Bern. I will not flay thy qucftions -, let Ime go -, 
Or, if thou follow me, do not believe. 
But I fhall do thee mifchief in the wood. 
. Hel. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field. 
You do me mifchief. Fie, Demetrius ! 
Your wrongs do fet a fcandal on my fex : 
We cannot fight for love, as men may do 5 
We ihou'd be woo'd, and were not made to woo. 
Til follow thee, and make a heaven of hell ; 
To die upon the hand, I love fo well. J^Exeunt 

Ob. Fare thee well, nymph: ere he doth leave this 
grove. 
Thou (halt fly him, and he (hall feek thy love. — 
Haft thou the flower there ? Welcome, wanderer. 

Re-enter Puck. 

Puck. Ay, there it is. 

Ob. I pray thee, g'rve it me. 
I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows. 
Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows ; 
* Quite over-canopy*d with the lufcious woodbine, 
With fwect mufli-rofes, and with eglantine. 

There 

^ O^n-^OMvffdmtb lufdws nvo^SimA AU the old editions have, 

J? 4 QjJ^^« 



40 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM, 

There flecps Titania, fome time of the night, 
Luird intWe flowers with dances and delight i 
And there the fnake throws her cnamePd (kin. 
Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in : 
And with the juice of this I'll ftreak her eyes. 
And make her full of hateful fantafies. 
Take thou fome of it, and feek though this grove } 
A fweet Athenian lady is in love 
With a difdainful youth : anoint his eyes i 
But do it, when the next thing he efpies 
May be the lady. Thou flialt know the man. 
By the A^htniati garments he hath on. 
EflFcdt if with fome care, that he may prove 
More fond of her, than Ihe upon her love: 
And,, look, thou meet me ere the firft cock crow. 
Pucf^* Fear not, my lord, your fervant ftiall do fo, 

SCENE It. 

Another part of the wood. 

Enter ^een of Fairies^ with ker train. 

^ueen. Come, now a roundel, and a fairy fong ;* 
Then; for the third part of 9 minute, hence : ^ 

Some, 

Quite onjer- canopied 'with lu/cious *w§cdSine, 
pn the margin of ope of my folio's an unknown hand has written 
Jujh^ woodbine, which, 1 think, is right. 

This hand J have H nee difcovered to be Theobald's. Johnson* 
Shakci'pcare ufesthe wprd lujh in TJbt Tempeft^ Adt II. 

«* How lujh and lufty thegrafs looks ? how green ?•* 

Stebvens. 
* g romndf;U ^"^ ^f^^fi^g A roundil is a dance in % 

ring. Q^AY- 

^ A rohttdely rondilU or nuvdilqyj is ufed to iignify a fong begiq. 
Iiing or ending with the fame fentence, reJit inorbem. 

Puttenham, in h^i Jrt of Po^-try, 1580, has a chapter Om tbt 
founiely orfph re\ and produces what he zalU A gemeial re/emSIanci 
fft^i rpuntifl to God, thi nvorld^ and the queen, Ste evens. 

^ Tb'-n for tbt third part of a minute bince,'\ So the old copies, 

]iut the queen ftcs Ujcm wprk« that is co keep them employed for 

' • ' fhj 



; A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. . 41 

Some, to kill cahlccrs in the muflc-rofe buds ; 
Some, war with rcar-mice for their leathern wings. 
To make my fmall elves coats; and fome, keep back 
The clamorous owl, that nightly hqots, and wonders 
At our ' quaint fpirits. Sing me now ^flfcep : 
Then to your offices, and let mc reft. 

Fairies fing. 

Tou fpoited fnakes with double tongue^ 

thorny hedgehogs ^ be not feen\ 
NewtSy and blind-worms^ do no wrong j 

Come not near our fairy queen. 

Philomel^ with melody^ 

Sing in your fweet lullaby j 

latdla^ lutla^ lullaby I 

lulla, lulla, lullaly: 

Never bamty 

Nor fpellj nor cbarm^ 

Come our lovely lady nigh% 

So^ good nighty with lullfby. 

Ae remainder of the night ; tke poet, undoubtedly, intended hef 
to fajr, Dance your round, and fing your fong, and then inftantly 
(teftre thf third part of a minute) begone to your refpedlive da- 
jies. Theobald. 
Pr.Warburton reads, 

/ or the third part •ftht midnight* 

The perfons employed zxt fairies^ to whom the third part of a 
ininute might not be fo ihort a time to do fuch work in. The cri- 
tkks might a^ well have objetlcd to the epithet tall^ which- cho 
tiaj gives to the cawpp. But Shakefpeare, throughout the play, 
has preferved the proportions of other things in refpe^l.of thefc 
tiny beings ; compared with whofe fi^e a cowflip might be tall, 
and to whofe powers of execution, a minute might be equivalent 
(0 an age. Stbevbms. 

'- quaint fpirits. ■ ■] Fpr this Dn Warburtop read^ 

^gainft all authority, 

■ 'Quaint fports. ■ 

^Bt Profjpero, in Tbi Temptft^ applies quaint to Ariel. Joh vsok. 

% Fairy, 



: 42 A MlDSUMMER-NIGHT's DREAM. 

2 Fairy. 

Weaving fpiders^ come not here ; 
Hencey you long-legged fpinnersj hence : 

Beetles Hack, approach not near\ 
Worm^ nor fnail^ do no offence* 

Philomel^ with melody^ &c. 

I Fairy. 

Henciy away\ now all is well:* 
One J aloof J ft and fentinel. 

[^Exeunt Fairies. The ^enfleeps.. 
Enter Oberon. 

Ob. What thou feeft, when thou doft wake, ^ 

Do it for thy true love take ; I 

Love, and languidi for his fake : J 
Be it * ounce, or cat, or bear, 
Pard, or boar with bridled hair. 

In thy eye that (hall appear, ^ 

When thou wak'ft, it is thy dear ; > 

Wake, when fome vile thing i3 near. i 

[Exit ObtroH. 
Enter Lyfanier and Herma. 

Lyf. Fair love, you faint with wandering in the 
wood; 
And, to fpeak troth, I have forgot our way : 
We'll reft us Hermia, if thou think it good. 
And tarry for the comfort of the day. 

HtT. Be't fo, Lyfander : find you out a bed. 
For I upon this bank will reft my head. 

' Hffice away, &c.] This according to all the editions is ffladd 
part of thefong; but I think without fuffident reafon, as it ap- - 
pears to be fpoken after the fong is over. In the quarto 1600, it 
IS given to the 2d Fairy, but the other divifion is better. Steev. 

* Bt it 0»ffrr)— — ] The ounce is a fmall dger, or tiger-cat. 

jOHNsoir. 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHrt DREAM. 45 

Ljf. One turf (hall fcrve as pillow for us both; 
One heart, one bed, two bofoms, and one troth* 

Her. Nity, good Lyftnder ; for my fake, my dear. 
Lye further off yet, do not lye fo near. 

Ljf. O take the fenf(s fweet, of my innocence •,* 
Love takes the meaniqg in love's conference. 
I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit ; 
So that but one heart we can ^ make of it : 

9 O take thffen/e^fwuti of my innocenpe; 
Lo^e taku tbemtaningf /«/n;i'i conference.] 
Here, by fome mifchance or other, innoctnct and confirenct have 
been jumbled into one another's places, and thereby deprired a verjr 
ieniible reply of all kind of meaning. Reftore each to its right 
place aad the fenfe will be this ; — when ihe had interpreted nit 
words to an evil meaning, he replies^ 

O taki tkejen/e^ fwttit of my conference; 
i. e. judge of my meaning by the drift of mv whole fpeech, and do 
flot pervert the fenfe of an ambiguous wora to a meaning quite 
fatign to the difcourfe. Befides, fays he. 

Love takes the meaniMg^ im UnM*t innocence, 
i. c. The innocence of your love may teach you to difcover th« in- 
oocence of miae. Thefe are the fentiments, which were qnite; 
]o/l in this aukward tranfpofitioa. Wa a bu rton. 

lam by no means convinced of the neceffitj of this alteration. 
Lyfander in the language of love profefles, that as they have one 
lieart, they (hall have one bed ; this Hermia thinks rather too 
much, and intreats him to lye further off. Lyfander anfwers, 

O take the fenfe f f'weet^ efmy innocence, 
onderftand the meaning of my innocence, or mj^ inmcemt meemimg. Let 
00 fufpicion of ill enter thy mbd. 

Love take] the meaning, in lefuie conference. 
In the converfation of thofe who are a/Fured of each other's kin(t-> 
nefsy not fnfpic son, but love takes the meeming. No malevolent in- 
terpretation is to be made, but all is to be received in the fenft 
which love can find, and which lotH can didate. Johnson. 

The latter line is certainly intelligible as Mr. Johnfon has ex- 
plained it ; but, i think« it requires a (light alteration to make it 
conned well with the former. I would read. 

Love take the meaning i^ levels conference. 

Obferv. $l Conjed. printed at Oxford, 1766. 
♦—we can Mtfi^ «/*//;] The folio, inftead of w# can, read^ 
fofyou. Sthevens. 



44 A MIDSUMMER.NIGHrs DREAM. 

Two boToms interchained with an oath ; 
So then, two bofoms, and a fingle troth : 
Then, by your fide no bed-room me deny j . j 

For, lying fo, Hcrmia, I do not lye. > 

Her. Lyfander, riddles very prettily : — 3 

Now much belhrcw my manners, and my pride, 
If Hermia meant to fay, Lyfander ly'd. 
But, gentle friend, for love and curtefy. 
Lye further off, in human modcfty. 
Such feparation, as, may well be faid. 
Becomes a virtuous batchelor and a maid. 
So far be diftant, and good night, fweet friend : 
Thy love ne'er alter, till thy fweet life end ! 

Lyf. Amen, amen, to that fair prayer fay I ; 
And then end life, when I end loyalty ! 
Here is my bed : Sleep give thee all his reft ! 

ffer. With half that.wilb the wilher's eyes be 
prefs'd! . \TbeyJkcp, 

Enter Puck. 

puck* Through the foreft have I gone, 
But Athenian found I none. 
On whofe eyes I might approve 
This flower's force in ftirring love ; 
Night and filence ! who is here? 
Weeds of Athens he doth wear \ 
This is he my matter faid, 
Defpifcd the Athenian maid. 
And here the maiden deeping found 
On the dank and dirty ground. 
Pretty foul ! (he durfl: not lye 
Near to this lack-love, this kill-curtcfy.^ 
Churl upon thy eyes, I throw 
All the power this charm doth owe : 

. 5 Keaf to this lack-lovi^ this kill- curtefy, '\ Mr. Theobald and fir 
T.Hamncr, for ihc fake ofihc mcafure, leave oxxt t bis lac k-loofi* 

Stebvenj. 

2 When 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. 45 

When thou wak*ft, let love forbid 

Sleep his feat on thy eye-lid. 

So awake, when I am gone ; 

Fori muft now to Oberon. [Exit. 

Enter Demetrius and Helena running. 

HeL Stay, tho' thou kill me, fweet Demetrius ! 

Dm. 1 charge thee, hence, and do not haunt mc 
thus. 

HeL O, wilt thou darkling leave me? donot fo. 

Dm. Stay, on thy peril ^ 1 alone will go. 

[Exit Demetrius. 

HeL O, I am out of breath in this fond chace ! 
The more my prayer, the lefler is my grace.* 
Happy is Hermia, whcrefoe'er fhe lies ; 
For (he hath bleffcd, and attraftive eyes. 
How came her eyes fo bright ? not with fait tears : 
If fo, my eyes are oftner wafh'd than hers. 
No, no, I am as ugly as a bear ; 
For bcafts, that meet me, run away for fear. 
Therefore, no marvel, tho* Demetrius 
Do (as a monfter) fly my prefcnce thus. 
What wicked, and diffembling glafs of mine 
Made me compare with Hermia's fphery eync ? 
But who is here ? Lyfandcr ! on the ground : 
Dead or afleep ? I fee no blood, no wound I 
Lyfander, if you live, good fir, awake. 

Lyf, And run thro* fire I will, for thy fweet fake. 

[IVaking. 
Tranfparent Helena ! Nature fhews art. 
That through thy bofom makes me fee thy heart. 
Where is Demetrius ? Oh, how fit a word 
Is that vile name, to perifh on my fword ! 

HeL Do not fay fo, Lyfander ; fay not fo ; 
What tho* he love your Hermia ? Lord, what tho* ? 

, ♦ m y gract,"] My acccptablcncfs, the favour that I can 

{Ufl. Johnson. 

Yet 



46 A MIDSUMMER.NlGHrs DREAM. 

Yet Hcrmia ftill loves you : then be contcot. ^ 

Lyf. Content vith Hermia ? No : I do repent t 
The tedious minutes I with her hare fpent i j 

Not Hermia, but Helena now I love i 
Who will not change a raven for a, dove ? 
The will of man is by his reafon fway'd ; 
And reafon fays, you are the worthier maid. 
Things, growing, are not ripe until their fcafoii 1 
So I, being young, till now ripe not to reafon } 
And, touching now the point of human (kill, 
Reafon becomes the marlhal to my will, ^ 
And leads me to your eyes ; where I o'erlook 
Love's ftories, written in love's richeft book. 

Hel. Wherefore was I to this keen mockery bom^ 
When, at your hands, did I deferve this fcorn ? 
Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man, 
That I did never, no, nor never can, 
Deferve a fweet look from Demetrius* eye. 
But you muft flout my infufficiency ? 
Good troth, you do me wrong, good footh, you do^ 
In fuch difdainful manner mc to woo : 
But fare you well. Perforce I muft confefs, 
I thought you lord of more true gentlencfsj* 
Oh, that a lady, of one man refused, 
Should, of another, therefore be abus*d I [Exif4 
Lyf. She fees not Hermia :— Hermia, deep lho«r 
there ; 
And never may'ft thou come Lyfander near ! 
For, as a furfcit of the fweetcft things. 
The deepeft loathing to the ftomach brings } 
Or, as the hercfies, that men do leave. 
Are hated moft of thofc they did deceive ; 

7 Rea/»n hecoma thi mar find to my wiU,] That is^ My will now 
follows reafon. Johnson. 

» — — true gintUnefs ;] GentUne/s is equivalent to what, in 
modern language, weihouldcall xhc/firit of a gtmlemsm. PiacY. 

2 S6 



A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAlVt 4?> 

So thou, my furfeit and my herefy. 
Of 4II be hated, but the molt of me ! 
And all my powers addrcfs your love and might 
To honour Helen, and to be her knight ! [Exil* 
./fer, ^Starting from Jkep.'l Help me, Lyfandcr, help 

mc ! do thy beft. 
To pluck this crawling ferpent from my breaft ! 

Ay mc, for pity ! what a dream was here ? 

Lyfander, look, how I do quake with fear : 
Me-thought, a ferpent eat my heart away ; 
And you ' fat fmiling at his cruel prey. 
Lyfandcr ! what, removed ? Lyfander ! lord ! 
What, out of hearing? gone? no found, no word? 
Alack, where are you ? fpeak, an if you hear ; 
Speak, of all loves; ' 1 fwoon almoft, with fear. 
No ? — then I well perceive, you are not nigh : 
Or death, or you, ^ Til find immediately. \^Emt. 

* Aniyu ] Inftead of^Air, the firft folio reads jrr/. Mr. Pope 

lift gave the right word from the auarro 1600. Stbevsn«. 

^^fiak,9faU A7-v^/;— — ] Of all i^tves is an adjuration more 
than once ufed by our aathor. So Merry prj-vej, &c. Ad II. Sc. 8. 

" to fend her your little page, o/a/l lovej,** 

Stebvbns* 
' Or Jioth, oryouf ice] The folio 1623, and the quarto 1600, 
inftead of the firil 0r, read W/i&^r. St b e v s ns. 



ACT 



4« A MIDStJMMER.NIGHrs DREAM. 
ACT III. SCENE I.^ 

THE WOOD. 

^ Enter ^ncCj Snug^ Bottom^ Flute^ Stunit^ ani 
Starveling. 

The ^een of F dries Ijing afleepi 

Bottom. 

ARE wc all met ? 
^in. Pat, pat ; and here's a marvellous con- 
venient place for our rehearfal. This green plot (halt 
be our ftage, this hawthorn- brake our tyring-houfe^ 
and we will do it in a£kion^ as we will do it before the 
duke. 

Bot. Peter Quince, 

Siuin. What fay'ft thou, bully Bottom ? 
Bot. There are things in this comedy of Pyramus 
and Thifby, that will never pleafe. Firft, Pyramui 
mud draw a fwbrd to kiU himfelf ; which the ladies 
cannot abide. How anfwer you that ? 
Smmt. By'rlakin, ^ a parlous fear. 

Star. 

^ In the time of Shakefpeare, tliere were many companies of 
players, fometimes ^vt at the fame time» contending for the fa- 
vour of the publick. Of thefc fome were ondoubtedly venr un- 
Hcilful and very poor, and it is probable that the defign of this 
fcene was to ridicule their ignorance, and the odd expedients to' 
which they might be driven by the want of proper decorations. 
Bottom was perhaps the head of a rival houfe, and is therefore 
honoured with an afs's head. Johnson. 

♦ Enter ^ince^ &c.] The two quarto's 1600, and the folio, read 
only. Enter the CIowht. Steevens. 

* By*riah'ftt a parlous fear,] By our ladjiin^ or fit tie laJjt* as 
ifaiim is a corruption of by my faith. Parlous^ a word corrupted 
from perilou'9 i. e. dangerous. So Phaer and Twyne tranflate 
f^trg. jEn* 1. 7. 302. 

J^iV SyrteSf aut Scylla mih:, quid vajfa Cbarjbdis 
Frofuuf 

if^lutt 



A MlDSUMMER-NIGHPs DREAM. 49 

' SiiT. I believe we muft leave the killing out> when 
all is done* 

Bci. Not a whit ; I have a device to make all well. 
Write nne a prologue ; and let the prologue feem to 
%, we will do no harm with our fwords ; and that 
Pyramus is not kilPd indeed : and, for more better 
affurance tell them, that I Pyramus am not Pyra- 
mus, but Bottom the weaver : This will put thed\, 
out of fear. 

^n. Well, we will have fuch a prologue ; and it 
Ihall be written in eight and fix/ 

B#/. No, make it two more ; let it be written ia 
eight and eight. 

Snwf. Will not the ladies be afraid of the lion ? 

Star. I fear it, I promife you. 

Boi. Mafters, you ought to confider with your*- 
icl?es : to bring in, . God ihicld us ! a lion among 
ladies, is a moft dreadful thing : for there is not a 
more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living; and 
we ought to look to it. 

Snouf. Therefore another prologue muft tell, he is 
not a lion. 

Bot. Nay, you muft name his name, and half his 
face muft be fecn through the lion's neck ; and he 
Umfelf muft fpcak through, faying thus, or to the 
lame defed ;— Ladies, or fair ladies, I would wilh 
you, or, I would requeft you, or, I would entreat 
you, not to fear, not to tremble : my life for yours, 
if you think, I come hither as a lion, it were pity of 
my life : No, I am no fuch thing ; I am a man a^ 
other men are : — and there, indeed, let him name 
his name ; and tell them plainly, he is Snug the 
joiner. 

^H. Well, it (hall be fo. But there is two hard 

What good did Scylla me ? what could prevail ChsLrybdU 

wood? 
Or Sirte8/«r/nr/ iandi ? Steivbni. 
VpL.IIL £ things; 



50 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. 

things ; that \sy to briog the moon-Iighc into t chair 
ber : for, you know, Pyramus and Thifby meet b 
irioon-lighr. 

Snug. Doth the moon fhine that night we play oi 
play ? 

Bo^. A kalendar, a kalendar ! lode in the alms 
nack; find out moon* (hi^ne, find out moon-fhine. 

^in. Yes, it doth (hine that night. 

BoL Wfiy t^ien you may leave a cafcment of tl 
great chamber window, where we play, open ; an 
the moon may (hine*in at the cafemcnc. 

^w. Ay; or elfe one muft come in with a bui 
of thorns and alanthorn, and fay, he comes to disl 
gur6, or to prefent, the perfon of moon-fhine.^Tte 
there is another thing: we mufthave a wrilin tl 
great chamber; for Pyramus and Thifby, fays tl 
ftory, did talk through the chink of a wall. * 

Snug. You never can bring in a wall. — What ■£ 
you. Bottom ? 

Bot. Some man or other mufl prefent wall : ai 
let him have fonne plaifler/ or fome lome, or fon 
rough-caft, about him, to fignify wall ; or let* hi 
hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny (fa; 
Pyramus and ThKby whifper. 

^/». If that maybe, then all is wcIL Come, 
down, every mother*s ion, and rehearfe your par 
Pyramus, you begin : when you have fpoken yo 
fpeech, enter into that brake ; and ib every one a 
CDfding to his cue. 

Enter Tuck behind. 

'Puck. What hempen home-fpuns have we fwa 

gerihg here. 
So near the cradle of the fairy queen ? - 
What, a play toward ? Til be an auditor; 
An aftor tooj perhaps, if I fee caufe. 
^in. Speak, Pyramus : — Thifby, ftand forth. 

/! 



A MiPSUMMER-NlGHT*s DREAM* U 

yr. Tbijiyj She /lower of odious favours Jweet. 
jiff. Odours, odours. 
]fyr. OdourSj favours fweet. 
. Sq dotjb thy breathy * trrf deareft Tbijby, dear t 
ht tarky a voice ! ft ay thou but here a whit ; ^ 
Andy by affd by^ I will to thee appear. 

{Exit PyraffiUs* 
Puck. A /Irangcr Pyramus than e'er play'^i here ! 

[J/id4. 
TUf Muft I fpeak n9w ? 

^n. Ay, marry, muft you ; for you mijft under* 
iUnd, he goes but to fee a noife that he heard, and is 
to come again. 
Tbif. Mofl radiant Pyramus^ mofl Ully white ofbue^ 
Of colour like the red rofe on triumphant briery 
M^fi brijky Juvenal^ and eke mofl lovely Jew^ 

As true as truefi horfe^ that yet would never tire^ 
m meet tbee^ Pyramus ^ at Ninnfs tomb. 

^in. Ninus* tomb, man : why you muft not IjJcak 
that yet t that you anfwer to Pyramus : you fpeak all 
your part at once, cues and all.-^^Py ramus enter | 
your cue is paft ; it is, never tire. 

Rc'^eftter Bottom, with an afs head. 

Tbif Oy—As true as truefi horfe^ that yet would never 
tire. 

. ^ S§ doth tiy truub,-^] The old cofties concut in readings 

S0 hath tiy <r/fl/A,— ^ 

llr. Pope, i believe, firft made the alteration, Steevens. 
. 7 , ^ slj tbom hut bert a ivi^tt ;] In the old editions^ 

'm ft ay tb§u here a while ; 

The verCes (hould be alternately in rhyme: buty^ff in the 
'dofe of the irftline, ^nd while in the third, will not do for thi# 
^nrpoie. The author, doubilefs, gave it, . / 

. . ' fi ay thou lut here a whit ; 

1. e. a little while*: for fo it fignifies, as a!fo any thing of no price 
iJrconfideraiion ; a trifle ; in which fenfc it is very frequent with 
ourattthor. Theobald. 

Ea Pjr^ 



52 A MIDSUMMER.NIGHTs DREAM. 

Tyr. If I were J fair Tbijbj^ I were only thine, 
^in. O monftrous ! O ft range ! wc are haunted. 
Pray, matters ! fly, mafters ! help \ 

' / C^*^ C/tftww exeunt. . 
Puck. I'll follow you, rU lead you about a round, 
^Through bog, through bufh, through brake^ 

through bryer; 
Sometime a horfe FU be, fometime a houfld, 

A hog, a headlefs bear, fometime a fire. 
And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and bum. 
Like horfe, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn. [£xix* 
Bot. Why do they run away ? this is a knavery of 
them to make me afeard.^ 

Re-^nter Snout. 

Snout. O Bottom ! thou art changM^ what do I 
fee on thee ? ' . 

Bot. What do you fee? you lee an afs head of 
your own j Do you ? 

Re-enter ^inee^ 

Sluin. Blefe thee. Bottom ! blefs thee ! thou art 
tranflatcd. \^Exit. 

• Bot. I fee their knavery : this is to make an afs of 
me ; to fright me if they could. But I will not ftir 

* Tkr^ugb h§g^ through bujh^ through hrake^ through hryer ;] Here 
are two fyllables wanting. Perhaps, it was wntten. 

Through hogt through mire, JoHNseN. 

* towmki mi afiard.^ Throughout the old copies of this 
author, the word a/raid is always thus fpelt ; I fuppoie, accordiii|f 
to the vulgar pronunciation. Ste evens. 

Afiard is from toftar^ by the old form of the language, ts «» 
tuijgrgd^ from to hunger. So adrj^ for thirftj, Johnson. 

' O Bottom^ thou art chuug*d! what do IJ:e oh ihte f\ It is plaiA 
by Bottom's anfwer, ^at Snout mentioned an afi^s head. Tnere- 
lore we fhould read. 

Snout. O BottCMt thou art cbangfdt what do I/u mufbekX 
Aa afi's head I Johnson^ '^ 

frooi 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHrs DREAM. 53 

from £bis place, do what they can : I will walk up 
»d dowa here« and I will fing, that they Ihall hear 
labi not afraid. ISings^ 

The oufeUeockj* fo black ofbue^ 

f^itb armtge-iawny bitl^ 
The tbrofik with bis notefo true, 

Tbe wren witb liuiequilL 

^/». What angel wakes me from my flowery bed^ 

[fTakinz. 
Bottom (ings. 

Tbefincb^ tbifparrow^ and tbe lark^ 

Tbe plainfong' cuckow gray^ 
Wbofe note full many a man doib mark^ 
And dares not anfwermtf : — 
for, indeed, who^ would fet his wit tofofooliftiabird? 
who would give a bird the lye, tho* he cry cuck$o 
never fo. 

^een. I pray thee, gentle mortal, fing again': 
'Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note. 
So is mine eye enthralled to thy Ihape j 
A^d thy fair virtue's force (perforce) doth move me. 
On the firft view to fay, to fwear I love tbee. 

Bot. 

* The ouzel eock^ ] L e. The cock blackbird. Ben Johfon 

Ufa the word in Tbt De^il is an J/s^ Com. 

«< rftay till cold weather come, 

" ril help thei to an ouzel and a fieldfare.'* Stebvbni. 

^ Mini ear is much enamoured of tky hoteg 
So is mint eye embralledu thy Jbepe ; 
And thy fair wrtue^s force (perforce) dab move me^ 
On the firft view to fay ^ to fwear, I love thee.] 

Th«!e lines are in one quarto of 1600, the firft folio of 1625, the 

ftcond of 1632, and the third of 1664, 8cc. ranged in the following 

^ricr: 

Mine ear is mtub enamoured of thy note. 

On tbe firft view to fay , to /wear, I love tbee ^ 

So is mine eye entbralUd to thy fifape, 

4ndityftur virtues force (ftrforaj dotb utove me* 

E3 ThU 



54 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHrs DREAM. 

BpL Mcthinks, miftrcfs, you fliould have Ktllc rct^ 
fon for that : And yet, to fay the truth, reafon auid 
love keep little company together now-a-days. The 
more the pity, that fomc honeft neighbours will not 
make them friends. Nay, I can *gleck, upon occfi- 
iion. 

^leen. Thou art as wife, as thou art beautiful. 

Bot. Not fo neither : but if I had wit enough to 
get out of this wood, I have enough to fervc mino 
own turn. 

Sljfeen. Out of this wood do not defire to go ; 
Thou fhalt remain here, whether thou wilt*or dq. 
I am a fpirit, of no common rate ; 
The fummer ftill doth tend upon my ftate. 
And I do love thee: therefore go with me; 
ril give thee fairies to attend on thee *, 
And they Ihall fetch thee jewels from the deep. 
And fing, while thou on preflcd flowers doft Qccp ; 
And 1 will purge thy mortal groflhefs fo. 
That thou Ihalt like an airy fpirit go. — 
Pearcbloflbm ! Cobweb! Moth! and Muftardfccd! 

Enter four Fairies. 

1 Fair. Readj\ 

2 Fair. And I. 

3 Fair, And L 

^Fair. And I: Where fhall we go ?'^ 
^een. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman-.; 
Hop in his waiks, and gambol in his eyes j 
peed him with apricots, and dewberries, 

This reading I have inferted, not that it can Aiggcft any thing bet-, 
ter than the order to which the lines have been reAored by Mr. 
Theobald from another quarto, but to ihew thai fomc liberty of 
conjefture muft he allowed in the rcvifal of works fo inaccurately 
piinted, and (o long ncglefted. Joh kson. 

♦ -—ghtki] Joke or feoff. Pop e . 

' — H^hiTi Mlivi zp?] Perhaps this queftion fhould be propo* 
fed by tie four fairies towethcr. Stibveni. 



A AiroSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 55 

With puxple grapes, green figs, and nvul berries ^ 
The honey- bags Ileal from the humble-bees. 
And, for night^capcrs, crop their wascen thighs. 
And. light them ac the fiery glow-worm's eyes, * 
To have my love to bed, and to arife : 
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies. 
To fan the moon-beams from his fleeping eyes j 
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtcfics. 

1 Fair. Hail, mortal, hail \ ^ 

2 Fair. Hail ! — 

3 Fair. Hail! — 

Bot. I cry your worfhip's mercy heartily. I bcfeech, 
your worlhip's name. 

Ccb. Cobweb, 

Bot. I fhall defire of you more acquaintance, good 
mailer Cobweb : If I cut my finger, I fhall make 
bold with you — Your name, honcft gentleman ? 

Peafe. PeafeblolTom. 

BoL I pray you, commend me to miftrefs Squafti 
your mother, and to maftcr Peafcod your father. 
Good mailer Peafebloffom, I (hall dcfire of you more 
acquaintance too. — Your name, 1 befecch you, fir. 

Mtif. Muftardfeed. 

Bot. Good matter Muftardfeed, I know your * pa- 
tience well : that fame cowardly, giant like, ox-bcef 
hath devoured many a gentleman of your houfe. I 
promife you, your kindred hath q^ade n^y eyes water 



* the fiery gh'W''wrm*s #>^/,] I know not how Shake- 

fpeare, who commonly derived his knowledge of nature from his 
own obfervation, happened to place the glow-worm's hghc in his 
t^tt^ which is only in his tail. Johnson. 

' — bmil /] Out of the four fairies, only three addrrfs 

t^mfelves to Bottom. If this falucation be given to the fecond 
fairy, the repetition of the fame word will fervc for the other two. 

Si E EVENS. 

f f atiiwce] The Oxford edition reads, I know y cur pa- 

rentage wtlL I believe the corredion is right, Johnson. 

i E 4 ere 



56 A MlDSUMMER^NIGHTs DREAM. 

ere now. I defire you more acquaintance, good mafter 
Muftardfeed. 

^een. Come, wait upon him •, lead him to my bower. 
The moon, methinks, looks with a watry eye ; 
And when (he weeps, weeps every little flower^ 

Lamenting fome enforced chaftity ! 
Tie up my love's tongue,^ bring him filently. . 

^Exeunt. 
SCENE II. 

Enter Oberon. 

Ob, I wonder, if Titania be awak'd ; 
Then, what it was that next came in her eyCt 
Which ihe mull doat on in extremity, 

Enier Puck, 

Here comes my meflcnger. How now, mad fpirit ? 
What night-rule now about this haunted grove i 

Puck. My miftrefs with a monfter is in love. 
Near to her clofe and confccrated bower. 
While il)e was in her dull and fleeping hour, 
A crew of patches,' rude mechanicals. 
That work for bread upon Athenian ftalls. 
Were met together to rehearfe a play. 
Intended for great Thefeus' nuptial day. 
The (hallow'ft thick-flcin of tl^at barren fort, 
Who Pyranius prcfented, in their fport 
Forfook his fccne, and enter'd in a brake : 
When I did him at this advantage take, 
An afs's ^ nowl I fixed on hi^ head ; 
Anon, his Thifby muft be anfwered, 

And 

f mj love*/ tomgme — ] The old copies rr ad, 

mj lovcr'i tcngui Steevins. 

■ — ^ paicbist ] Patch wtLS in old language ufcd as t 

term of opprobry ; perhaps with much the fame import as we life 
ra7gamvji/ij or tatter Jtmalion. John son r 

* ^imvl'^\ A bead. Saxoo* Jphksok. 



A MIDSUMMER. NIGHT'S DRpAM- 57 
And forth my ' minnock * comes,: When they him 

At wild geefe, that the creeping fowler eye. 

Or ruiTet-pated choughs, many in fort, ^ 

Rifing and cawing at the gun's report. 

Sever themfelves, and madly fweep the fky % 

So, at his fight, away his fellows fly : 

And, at our ftamp, ^ here o*er and o'er one falls ; 

He murder cries, and help from Athens calls. 

Their fenfe thus weak, loft with their fears thus ftrong. 

Made fenfelefs things begin to do them wrong : 

SoCliiuicerf The Hijlmy •fBirjn^ 2^24, 

«< No fothly, quoth the fteward, it lieth all In thy «»i7» 
*' Both wit and wifdom." Stbbv? ms* 

^ mnnock^ This is the reading of the old quarto, and 

I believe right. Minmhiu^ now miux% is a nice trifling girl. Miw^ 
Mri is apparently a word of contempt. Joh n son • 

' f^rt^ Company. So above, 

tlud bar Tin fort; 
and in Waller, 

A fort 9f lufiyjbifherisfiri'ui. Joh 11 SOK. 

\^Mi $mrjlampt^ 1 This feems to be a vicious reading. 
Fairies are never reprefented ftamping, or of a fixe that ihould give 
force to a ftamp, nor could they have diftingnilhed the ilamps of 
Pock from thole of their own companions. I read, 

Jmd at a ftnmp bete t^tr amdo^tr omfalk* 
60 Drayton, 

J pain he in bis bead- piece feebt 
Againft a ftubbed tree he reeU^ 
And up went poor hobgoblin* j heels | 

Alajf his brain nvas dizzy 

At length upon his feet begets^ 
Hobgoilin fumes ^ Hobgoblin frets^ 
And as again he forviordfets^ 

And through the bujbesjcr ambles^ 
A ftump doih trip him in hispace^ 
Down f II p' or Hob upon hisface^ 
And lamtntabh tore bis cafe^ 

4fitong the briers and bramUet. JofiNlOir. 



5« A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT's DREAM. 

For briars and thbrns at their apparel fnatch, 

^ Some, fleeves ; fome, hats : from yieldcrs all thingj^ 

catch. 
I kd them on in this diftraftcd fear. 
And left fwect Pyramus tranflatcd there : 
When in that moment (fo it came to pafs) 
Titania wak'd, and ftraightway lov'dan ais. 

Ob. This falls out better than I could devife. 
But haft thou yet latch'd ' the Athenian's eyes 
With the love-juice, as 1 did bid thee do ? 

Puck. I took him fleeping; — that is finifti'd too;— 
And the Athenian woman by his fide ; 
That when he wakes, of force (he muft be ey'd* 

Enter Demetrius and Hermia. 

< Ob. Stand clofe, this is the fame Athenian. 

Puck, This is the woman, but not this the man. 

Dem. O, why rebuke you him that loves you fo ? 
Lay breath fo bitter on your bitter foe. 

Her. Now I but chide, but I fhould ufe thee worfej 
For thou, I fear, haft given me cauie to curfe. 
If thou haft (lain Lyfander in his (leep,^ 
Being oVr (hoes in blood, ' plunge in the deep. 
And kill ntc too, 

^ Somi^JUeves \/ome^ hatj : ] There is the like iftiig^ 

in Drayton of queen Mab and her fairies flying from Hobgoblin. 

Sem^ tore a tuf, and ftmi n goiAiU^ 

^Gainfi eue anothi rjujUmg ; 
7'bejfl'^ about Itks chaj P th* ^i-i^ 
For hafitfonit Ifft tbfir K.ajhs btbind^ 
Some could not Jiay thtir glo-vts tajind, 

Tbtre ucnjir ^mat/uib buJIUng . Jo k N s o n . 

• — •— latch' J^"] or Ictch'd, lick'd over, Ucbtr^ to Ikk, French. 

Hanmer. 

In the North, it fignifics to infea, Steevens. 

' Btipgo\r finfs in blood, '\ An allnfion to the proverb, 0%*er 
4kUf^ ovir kcoti. Johnson. 

The 



A-MIDSUMMER.NIGHTs DREAM. 59 

TKc fun was not fo true unto the dajr, 
A.S he to me. Would he have ftol'n away 
From deeping Hermia ? Pll bchevc as foon, 
^his whole earch may be bor'd ; and that the moon 
^«y through the center creep, and fo difpleafe 
^cr brother's noon-tide with the Antipodes. 
J^ cannot be, but thou haft murdered him ; 
Sc> fliould a murderer look, fo * dead, fo grim. 

Dem. So (hould the murdcr'd look 5 and fo fhould I, 
^icrc'd through the heart with your ftern cruelty : 
^^t you, the murderer, look as bright, and clear^ 
'Vs yonder Venus in her glimmering fphere. 

Her. What's this to my Lyfander ? where is he ? 
^h, good Demetrius, wilt thou gire him me ? 
Dim. I had rather give his carcafs to my hounds. 
HiT. Out, dog, out, cur! thou driv'ft me paft the 
bounds 
Of maiden's patience. Haft thou ftain him then ? 
Henceforth be never number'd among men I 
! onCe tell true, tell true, even for my fake, 
Purft thou have look'd upon him, being awake! 
And haft thou kill'd him fleeping ? O brave touch ! ' 
Could not a worm, an adder do fo much ? 
An adder did it ; for with doubler tongue 
Than thine, thou ferpent, never adder ftung. 

^ ,— > Jtad^l All the old copiet read /o itad^ in my cop^ «jf 
i^9 fome reader has altered dead xoirtad, Johnson. 

Of ad feeins to be the right word» and our author again iiTesU 
%i P. He». IV. ad i. fc. 3. 

E'utn/ucb a man^ fo faints f9 fpiritUft^ 

So dull, fo dead /« look^ fo luoe-begone, STEiVBiis. 

3 -r-O bra'ut toucb.l T§ucb in Shakefpesre's time was the ftiAq 
with 007 exploit^ or rziYitr Jirokt. A brave touch, a noble ilrOke» 
MM grand coup. M'ifn twas ikry mtny^ pkttfantlj pldpng both *tvitb 
ibi Jbrev;d touches •f many cur A hMjs^ And the fmaUdifirnion of 
Wiff lewd fcbolmaficru Afchaoi. Johnson. 

J)em. 



6p A MlDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 

Dem. You fpend yourpaflion on a mifpris'd mood:^ 
I am not guilty of Lyfander's blood ;* 
Nor is he dead, for aught that I can telh 

///r, 1 pray thee, tell me then that he is well. 

Dem. And if I could, what (hould I get therefore{ 

Her. A privilege, never to fee me more.— • 
And from thy hated prefence part I (b ; 
See me no more, whether he be dead or no. [Exit. 

Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein : 
Here, therefore, for a while I will remain. 
So forrow's heavinefs doth heavier grow. 
For debt, that bankrupt fleep doth forrow owe ; 
Which now in fome flight meafure it will pay. 
If for his tender here I make fome (lay. [Lies dcnvfu 

Ob. What haft thou done? thou haft miftaken quite. 
And laid thy love-juice on fome true-love*s (ighc: 
Of thy mifprifion muft per force enfue 
Some true love turn'd, and not a falfe turn'd true. * 

Puck. Then fape. o*er- rules ^ that, one man hold-' 
ing troth, 
A million fail, confounding oath on oath. 
. Ob. About the wood go Iwifter than the wind. 
And Helena of Athens, look thou find. 
All fancy-fick fhe is, and pale of cheer 
With figbs of love, that coft the frefh blood dear : 
By fome illufion, fee, thou bring her here ; 
ril charm his eyes againft flie do appear. 

Puck. I go, 1 go ; look, how I go ; 
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. [ExiU 

Ob. Flower of this purple dye. 
Hit with Cupid^s archery, 

^ m^mi/frss*i/^] Miftaken ; fo below mffrijion is miftake. 

JOHNSOtf. 

* Sir T. H. reids the laft line thus : 

Som trui hvi turtfdfal/e^ net a/al/i, turned trut. 

STBEVBirr. , 

Sink 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. ^^ 

S'mk in apple of his eye I 
When his love he doth cfpy. 
Let her (hine as glorioufly 
As the Venus of the Iky*— ^ 
Wi\en thou wak'ft, if (he be by, 
9eg of her for remedy. 

Re-enier Puck. 

Puck. Captain of our fairy-band, 
Helena is here at hand ; 
Afkl the youth, miftook by me. 
Pleading for a lover's fee ; 
Shall we their fond pageant fee? 
Lord, what fools thefe mortals be ? 

Ob. Stand afide : the noife they make. 
Will caufe Demetrius to awake. 
' Puck. Then will two, at once, woo one ; 
That muft needs be fport alone : 
And thofe things do bed pleafe me, 
Thit bcfal prc^ft*roufly. 

Enter Lyfander^ andHdena. 

Lyf. Why fhould you think, that I fhould woo in 
fcorn ? 

Scorn and derifion never come in tears : 
Look, when I vow, I weep ; and vows fo born, 

In their nativity all truth appears, 
flow can thefe things in me fcem fcorn to you. 
Bearing the badge of faith, to prove ihem true ? 

Hel. You do advance your cunning more and more; 

When truth kills truth, O deviliSi — holy fray ! 
Thefe vows are Hermia's : will you give her o*er ? 

Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh: 
Tour vows, to her and me, put in two fcales, 
,Will even weigh, and both as light as talcs. 
- Ljf. I had no judgment, when to her I fwore. 

HeL Nor none in my mind, now you give her a'er. 

Lyf. 



6z A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT^s DREaM 

Lyf. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not yotl^ 
Dem. [awaking] O Helen, gpddefs, nynjph^ pey< 
feft, divine! 
To what, my love, ihall I compare tl>ine cype ? 
Cryltal is muddy. O how ripe in fliipw 
Thy lips, thofe kifliAg cherriesj tempting grow f 
That pure congealed white, high Taurus' fnow, * 
Fann'd with the eaftem wind, turns to a crow 
When thou hold'ft up thy hand. O let me kifs 
This princcfs of pure white % this fcal 6f-biifs! ^ 

Hel. O fpight ! O fcell :. I fee, you all are beot 
To fct againft me, for your merriment : 
If you were civil, and kntw courtefy. 
You would not do me thus much injury. 
Can you aot.hate me, as I know you do. 
But you muftjoin in fouls % to mock me too? 

If 

' — Taurus* /nonv,] Taurua 15 the name of 1 range of qioad^ 
tains in Ada. John ion. 

* nis pnnctfs 0/ fun ofto^,— ] Thus f)l the editions tofi 
T.H.*8. He reads, 

This purcnefs rf pure muhite ; 

and Dr. Wartui-ton follows Jiim. Steepens. 

^ -^/ial oflltfs.] He has elfewhere the {ame^mage^ 

But my kijfti hriag Of •mm . 

Seals of love, i^ut JeaPii in vain* Jon nsok . 

• jfiin in fouls] This is furely wibn^. We may read^ J^h 

in fcorns, or join in (coifs. Johmsoii. 

Jcim iafoals. i. e. join heartily, unite in the fame mind, Skak^ 
fpeare in Henry V. ufes an cxpreffion not unliJke this: 

For *uii luiUSiart nou» misd hlioifi in heart ;. 
i. e. heartHy believe : and in Meafure for Meafure, be talks 0( 
eleding with fptcial fouL In Troilus and Creffida, Ulyfies« ip 
lating Uie charadler of Heftor as given him by iEneas, fays, 

«* with pri'vati/oul 
** Did In great Ilion thas tranflate him to me.'^ 

Sir T. Hantner would read——/* flcuts ; Dr Warburton, infolinis\ 
and Dr. John(bn, in/corns^ or in feoffs. Steevens. 

I rather believe the line ihonki ht read thtts» 

Mm 



A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 63 

\i you were men, as men you are, in fhow. 

You would not ufc a gentle lady fo ; 

To TOW and fwcar, and fupcr-pr^fe my parts ; 

When, 1 am fure, you hate me with your hearts. 

You both arc rivals, and love Hermia, 

And now both rivals to mock Helena. 

A trim exploit, a manly enterprize. 

To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes. 

With your derifion ! none of nobler fort, n 

WouU fo ofl^nd a virgin ; and extort ' y 

A poor foul's patience, all to make you fport. . J 

Lyf. You are unkind, Demetrius ; be, not fo. 
For you love Hermia ; this, you know, I know j 
And here, with all good will, with all my heart. 
In Hermia^'s love I yield you up my part •, 
And yours of Helena to me bequeath, -i 

Whom I do love, and will, do to my death. v 

HeL Never did mockers wafte more idle breath. } 
Dem. Lyfander, keep thy Hermia ; I will none : 
If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone, 
' My heart with her but, as gueft-wife, fojourn'd ; 
And now to Helen it is home return'd. 

There to remain. 
Lyf. Helen, it is not fo. 
Dem. Difparage not the faith, thou doft not know. 

Left, to thy peril, thou aby it dear 

Look, where thy love comes •, yonder is thy dear. 

But you ffiiifijciti, itLjeu/s, to mock miioof 
111 ii oktu ufed for 6aJ, luiekid, 

Obiervations and Conjc£lures, &c. printed at Oxford, 1766. 

^ This is a Fcry rcafonable conjeflure, though I think it is hardly 
right. Johnson. 
^ Extort a poor /ouPs fat irrtce.] Harrafs, torment. Johnson. 
* Mj heart to htr.} We fhoald read, 

Mj heart with her hut as gu^-nx^ife /ojoum^d. 
So Prior, 

No matter nvhat heauties I fofw in my nvayf 
. They were hut my vifits, but then not my home, 

Johnson* 

Enter 



^4 A MIDSUMMER.NIGHrs DREAM. \ 

. MnOr Herma* 

Her. Dark night, that from the eye his fundioa. 
takes. 
The ear more quick of apprehenfion makes i 
Wherein it doth impair the feeing fenfe. 
It pays the hearing double recompence.— - 
Thou art not by mine eye, Lyfander, found ; 
Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy found. 
But why unkindly did'ft thou leave me lo ? 

Lyf. Why ihould he ftay> whom love doth prefs 
to go? 

Her. What love could prefs Lyfander from my fide ? 

Lyf. Lyfander*s love, that would not let him 'bide. 
Fair Helena *, who more engilds the night. 
Then all yon fiery 0*s * and eyes of light. 
Why feek'ft choO me? could not this make thee know, 
The hate, I bear thee, made me leave thee fo ? 

Her. You fpeak not, as you think : it cannot be 

Hel. Lo, flie is one of this confederacy ! 
Now, I perceive, they have conjoined, all threes 
To fafhion this falfe fport in fpight to meJ— - . 
Injurious Hermia ! mod ungrateful maid ! 
Have you confpir'd, have you with thefe contrived 
To bait me with this foul dcrifion ? 
Is all the counfel that we two have fhar'd. 
The fifters vows, the hours that we have fpent. 
When we have chid the hafty-footed time 
For parting us, O, and is all forgot ? 
All fchbol-days friendfhip, childhood innocence? 
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, 

» ^"'^aU yon Jury 0\.'\ J would willingly believe that the poet- 
wrote ficn orbs. Johnson. 

Shaike(peare ufes O for a circle. So iu the prologue to Hen. V* 

" can we crowd 

«* ^ithin this little O, the very cafquei 
<< That did affright the air at Agincoart?*' 

STBtVtIlt. . 

9 ^in ffiti of mr.] I read, infpin to m. Johhsoh. 

Haye 



A MiDSUMMER-NIGHT's DREAM. 6$ 
Have with our *. needles created both one flower; 
Both on one fampler, fitting on one cufliion ; 
Both warbling of one Ibng, both in one key -, 
As if our hands, our fides, voices, and minds 
Had been incorporate. So we grew together. 
Like to a double cherry, feeming parted ; 
But yet an union in partition^ 
Two lovely berries molded on one ftem : 
So, with two feeming bodies, but one heart ; 
' Two of the firft, like coats in heraldry. 
Due but to one, and crowned with one creft* 
And will you rend our ancient love afunder, 
To join with men in fcorning your poor friend ? 
It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly : 
Our fex, as well as I, may chide you for it ; 
Though I alone do feel the injury. 

Her. I am amazed at your pallionate words : 
I fcorn you not j it feems that you fcorn me, 

H(I. Have you not fet Lyfander, as in fcorn. 
To follow me, and praife my eyes and face ? 
And made your other love, Demetrius, 
(Who even but now did fpurn me at his foot) 
To call meGoddefs, nymph, divine, and rare. 
Precious, celeftial ? Wherefore fpeaks he this 
To her he hates ? and wherefore doth Lyfander 
Deny your love fo rich within his foul. 
And tender me, forfooth, afl^edlion ; 
But by your fetting on, by your confcnt ? 

* Havi with cur needles, ifc] It was probably written by 
Shikefpeare meeUs ^a common contraction in the inland conntie| 
at this day) otherwift; the verfe will be inharmonious, See Gam- 
aer Carton's Needle. Steevens. 

• Two of /hi Jirfi life, ceats in brraUrjf 
Dtii but to one, and crrufitii with om crifi:^ 
The true <;orre^on of this paflage I owe to the friendfhip and 
conuaunication of the ingenious Martin Folkes, efq.-^ — Two of 
ike /r/, yJroW, &c. arc terms peculiar in Heraldry^ to difUn- 
goiDi the dtfierent quart wrings of coatt. Theobald. 

V01..III. F What 



66 A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 

What though I be not fo m grace as you. 
So hung upon with love, fo fortunate ; 
But miferable moft, to love unlovM ? 
This you fliould pity rather than defpife. 

Her. I underftand not what you mean by this. 

Hel. Ay, do, perfever ', counterfeit fad looks. 
Make mouths upon me, when I turn my back-. 
Wink at each other, hold the fweet jeft up : 
This fport, well carried, fhall be chronicled. 
If you have any pity, grace, or mdnners. 
You would not make me fuch an argurtient: * 
But, fare ye well : 'tis partly mine own fault. 
Which death, or abfence, foon fhall remedy. 

Lyf. Stay, gentle Helena ; hear my excufc ; 
My love, my life, my foul, fair Helena ! 

Hel. O excellent! 

Her. Sweet, do not fcorn her fo. 

Dem. If fhe cannot entreat, I can compel. 

Lyf. Thou canft compel no more than (he entreat! 
Thy threats have no more ftrength, than her weak 

prayers. ' 
Helen, I love thee ; by my life,. I do ; 
I fwc?ir, by that which I will lofe for fhee. 
To prdvb- him. falfe, that fays I love thee not. 

Dem. I fay, I love thee mbre than he can do. 

Lvf. If thou fay To, withdraw and prove it too. 

\ Ay^ do^ pcrCever— ] Per/ewr is the reading of all the old co- 
pies." The word was formerly fo pronoi|nced. Thus our ^{ithor 
ifl "All's tVeir that ends Well, aft iv. fc. 2. 

— ^" fay thou art mine, and ever 
•* My love, as it begins, fo fliall ftr/evir.** 

', Stbbvensi 

' ^Hcbanarguffient.] SucK-aVi^rV^ff of light merriment. 

• " JbHNSON. 

60 Ifabelta, fpeaking to Lucio in Mieafure fbrMeafure, * ' ■ 
•• Make mc not, fir, yurfiory:' Stieveks. 

' - t han hit «c;fiii prayers.] The old copies read, 

' ■ ih^n btr wiok praife. St&evens. 

Dm. 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT^s DREAM. 67 

D^m, Quick, come — 

Her. Lylander, whereto tends all this ? 

Lyf. Away, you Ethiop ! 

Dem. No, no; he'll 
Seem to break loofe, cake on, as you would follo^^ 
But yet come not : you are a tamo^an, go. 

Lyf. Hang off thou cat, thou burr : vile thing, 
let loofe ; 
Or I will ihake thee from me, like a ferpent. 

Her. Why arc you grown fo rude ? what change 
Sweet love 1 [is this ? 

Lfff. Thy love ? out, tawny Tartar, out ! 
Out^ loathed medicine I hated poifon, hence I 

Her. Do you not jeft ? 

HeL Yes, footh ; and fo do you. 

Lyf. Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee* 

Dem. I would, I had your bond : for, I perceive, 
A weak bond holds you ; Til not truft your word. 

Lyf. What, fliould I hurt her, ftrike her, kill her 
dead ? 
Although I hate her. Til not harm her fo. 

Her. What, can you do me greater harm than hate? 
Hate me ! wherefore ? O me ! what news, my love? 
Am not I Hermia ? arc not you Lyfandcr ? 
lam as fair now, as I was ere- while. 
Sinccnight, youlovM me; yet, fince night you left me: 
Why then you left me ? — O the gods forbid ! — 
Incarncft, (hall 1 fay ? 

Lyf. Ay, by my life ; 
And never- did dcfire to fee thee more. 
Therefore be out of hope, of qucftion, doubt : 
Be certain, nothing truer ; 'tis no jeft. 
That I do hate thee, and love Helena. 

Her. O me! you jugler! oh, you canker-bloflTom !♦ 

You 

* - y ^u eanhr^hloffom /] The eanker-hh^om is not in this 

{tlace the bloflbm of the cankir or msildrofi^ vdiich our author aU 
add to in Much Ado About Nothing, aAJ. fc 6. 

E 2 "I had 



68 A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM 

You thief of love ! what, have you come by night. 
And ftorn my love's heart from him ? 

Hel. Fine, i'faith ! 
Have you no modefty, no maiden fhame, 
No touch of baftifulnefs ? What, will you tear 
Impatient anfwers from my gentle tongue? 
Fie, fie ! you counterfeit, you puppet, you ! 

Her. Puppet ! why fo ? Ay, that way goes thegamc. 
Now, I perceive, that (he hath made compare 
Between our ftatures ; (he hath urg*d her height; 
And with her perfonage, her tall perfonage. 
Her height, forfooth, (he hath prevail'd with him.— > 
And are you grown fo high in his efteem, 
Becaufe I am lb dwarfifh, and fo low ? 
How low am I, thou painted maypole ? fpeak 5 
How low am I ? I am not yet fo low. 
But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes. 

Hel. I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen. 
Let her not hurt me : I was never curft j 
I have no gift at all in (hrewiflmefs ; 
I am a right maid, for my cowardice : 
Let her not ftrike me. You, perhaps, may think, 
Becaufe (he's fomething lower than myfelf. 
That I can match her. 

Her. Lower! hark, again.-— 
Hel. Good Hermia, do not be fo bitter with mc. 
I ever more did love you, Hermia, 
Did ever keep your counfels, never wrong'd you; 
Save that, in love unto Demetrius, 
I told him of your ftealth unto this wood : 
He followed you ; for love I followed him. 
But he hath chid me hence, and threatened mc 

<* I had rsther hc2Lcankir \\\ a hedge 
" Than a rofe in his grace." 

but a worm that preys on the leaves or buds of flowers, always be* 
ginning in the middle. So in the famous palTage, 
." like a w9rm i* th^ hud, 
** Feed on her damalk cheek*'* Stbivini. 



A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 69 

To ftrikc me, fpurn me, nay, to kill mc too : 
And now, fo you will let me quiet go. 
To Athens will I bear my folly back. 
And follow you no further. Let me go : 
You fee how fimple and how fond I am. ^ 

Her. Why, get you gone : Who is*t that hinders 
you? 

HeL A foolifh heart, that I leave here behind. 

Her^ What, with Lyfandcr ? 

Hel. With Demetrius. 

Lyf. Be not afraid ; (he ftiall not harm thee, Helena. 

Dctth No, fir ; fhc (hall not, though you take her 
part, 

HeL O, when (he's angry, fhe is keen and flirewd : 
She was a vixen when (he went to fchool ; 
And though fhe be but little, (he is fierce. 

Her. Little again ? nothing but low, and little ?— 
Why will you fuffer her to flout me thus? 
Let me come to her. 

Lyf. Get you gone, you dwarf. 
Yog •Minimus, of hindering knot-grafs made s ^ 

You 

i — •* how fond I am.] Fond^ i.e. foolifti ; often ns'd in 
tbtibre by our author:— Merchant of Venice, aA ii. fc. 4. 

« I do wonder 

•* Thou naughty goaler that thou art {o fond . 
" To come abroad with him." SxEiiVENs, 

• Ttu Mimmus^ — ] Shakefpcare might have given it, 

Tou Minim, you, 
le. Yon Dimimtttve of the Creation, you Rept'tht as in Milton, 

Thbobald. 

^ iff bindring knot graft maJf,] It appears that knot- 

gnh was anciently fnppofed to prevent the growth of any animal 
or child. 

Beaumont and Fletcher mention this property of it in The 
Inight of the Burning Pcftle : 

" Should they put him into a ftrait pair of galLins, 'twere 
•• worfe than knot-grafs^ he would never grow ^ftcr it." 

Again in The Coxcomb : 

• F ; "We 



70 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT's PREAM, 

You bead, you acorn, 

Bern. You are too officious, ' 
In her behalf that fcorns your fcrvlccs. 
Let her alone ; fpeak not of Helena, 
\fake not her part : for if thou doit intend 
Never fo little {hev<^ of love to her, 
Thou (halt aby it.' 

Lyf. Now fhe holds me not ; 
Now follow, if thou dar'ft ; to try whofe right, 
Or thine, or mine, is moft in Helena, 

Dem. Follow ? nay, 1*11 go with thee, cheek b] 
jowl. [Exit Lyfander and DemHruu 

Her. You, miftrefs, all this coyl is long of you : 
^ay, go not back. 

HeL I will not truft you, I ; 
Nor longer ftay in your curft t:ompany. 
Your hands, than mine, arc quicker for a fray j 
My legs are longer, though, to run away. 

Her. I am amaz*d, and know not what to fay. 

[Exeunt: Hermia purfuing Helena, 

Ob. This is thy negligence : ftill thou miftak'ft, 
Or elfe commit'ft thy knaveries willingly. ' 

Puck. Believe me, king of fhadows, I miftook. 
Did not you tell me, I fhould know the man 
By the Athenian garments he had on ? 
And fo farblamelefs proves my enterprize, 
Th atl have 'nointed an Athenian's eyes : 

" Wc want a boy extremely for this funflion, kept under, for 
« a year, with milk and knot-gra/s.'* Daify-roots were foppofed 
tp have the fame efFeft. Steevems. 

* Thou jha'.i aby //.] To aby is to pay dear for, to fuffcr. So 

in the Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntingdon, 1601 : 

" Had I a fword and buckler here. 

" You fhould fl^^thefe queftions." 

The word has occur'd before in this piay. Stebtbks. 

' thy kna'ueries willingly.] The quarto in 1600 reads «i;f7- 

fuljy. Stebvens. 

And 



A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 7 1 

And fo far am I glad it did fo fort, ' 

As this their jangling I eftecm a fport. 

Ob. Thou fecft, thefe lovers fcek a place to fight; 

Hie therefore, Robin, ovcrcaft the night; 

The ftarry welkin cover thou anon 

With drooping fogs, as black as Acheron; 

And lead thefe tefty rivals fo aftray. 

As one come not >yithin another's way. 

Like to Lyfander, fonietime, frame thy tongue^ 

Then ftir Demetrius up with bitter wrong; 

And fometime rail thou, like Demetrius ; 

And from each other, look, thou lead them thus, 

Tillo'er their brows death counterfeiting fleep 

With* leaden legs and batty wings doth creep : 

Then crufti this herb into Lyfander's eye, 

Whofe liquor hath this virtuous property, * 

To take fropi thence all error with its might. 

And make his eye- balls roll with wonted fight. 

When they next wake, all this derifion 

Shall feem a dream, and fruitlefs vifion ; 

And back to Athens fliall the lovers wend 

With league, whofe date 'till death (hall never end. 

Whiles I in this affair do thee employ, 

ni to my queen, and beg her Indian boy j 

And then I will her charmed eye releafc 

From monfters view, and all things fhall be peace. 

Puck. My fairy lord, this muft be done with hafte j 
For night's fwift dragons cut the clouds full faft. 
And yonder fliines Aurora's harbinger ; 
At whofe approach ghofts wandering here and there 
Troop home to church-yard ; damned fpirits all, * 
That in crofs-ways and floods have burial. 

Already 

^ 'mm^fo/ortJ] So happen in the ilTue. Johkson. 
* virtuous pr9piriy.'\ Salutlferous. So he calls, in the Tcm- 
pcft, poifinous diijoy wicked Jti.v. J o h k s o m . 



'damntd fpiriti alU 



That in crofs-ways and floods have hurial.] 
i»t. The ghofts of fclf-murderers, who are buried in crof^-roads j 

F 4 and 



7t A MIDSUMMERNIGHTs DREAM. 

Already to their wormy beds are gone ; 

For fear left day {hould look their fhames upon, 

They wilfully exile themfelves from light. 

And muft for aye confort with black-brow'd night. 

Ob. But we are fpirits of another fort ; 
I with the morning*s love have oft made fport ; ♦ 
And, like a forefter, the groves may tread. 
Even till theeaftern gate, all fiery-red. 
Opening on Neptune with fair bleffed beams. 
Turns into yellow gold his falt-green ftreams. 
But, notwithftanding, hafte ; make no delay : 
We may effcdt this bufinefs yet ere day. [Exit Ob. 

Puck. Up and down, up and down: 
I will lead them up and down: 
I am fear*d in field in town ; 
Goblin, lead them up and down^ 
Jiere comes one. 

Enter Lyfander. 

Lyf. Where art thou, proud Demetrius? Ipeak 

thou now. 
Puck. Here, villain \ drawn and ready. Where 

art thou ? 
Lyf. I will be with thee ftraight. 
Puck. Follow me then 
To plainer ground. [Lyf- goes oul^ as following Dent. 

fi|id of thofe who being drowned, were condemned (according 
to jhe opinion of the ancients)"^ to wander for a hundred years, as 
the rites of fepulture ha4 never been regularly bellowed on their 
)>odies. Steevens. 

* / tuitb the n.orning^s love have oft made /port J] Thus all the 
old copies* and I think, rightly. Tithonus was the hufband of 
Aurora, and Tithonus was no yttng Deity. How fuch a wag- 
gi(h fpirit as the King of the Fairies might make fport with an an- 
tiquated lover may be eafily underftood. Dr. Johnfon reads with 
1^11 the modern editors, *• I with the morning lights &c." 

$TEBV£KS. 

l^nur 



A MTOSUMMER-NIGHT's DREAM. 75 

Enter Demetrius, 

Dm. Lyfander! fpeak again. 
Thou run-away, thou coward, art thou fled ? 
Speak in feme bufh : where doft thou hide thy head ?^ 
Puck. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the ftars^ 
Telling the buihes that thou look*ftfqr wars, 
And wilt not come? Come, recreant; come, thou 

child ; 
I'll whip thee with a rod : he is defil'd. 
That draws a fword on thee. 
Dem. Yea ; art thou there? 
Puck. Follow my voice, we'll try no manhood here* 

[^Exeuni, 
Re-enter Lyfander. 

^yf' He goes before me, and ft ill dares me on 5 
When I come where he calls me, then he's gone. 
The villain is much lighter hecl'd, than I : 
IfoUow'd faft, but fatter he did fly ; 
That fallen am I in dark uneven way. 
And here will reft me. Come, thou gentle day ! 

[lAesdawn. 
For if but once thou ftiew me^thy gray light, 
I'll find Demetrius, and revenge this fpight. 

Re enter Puck and Demetrius. 

Puck. Ho, ho, ho, coward, why comeft thou not ? 

Bern. Abide me, if thou dar'ft : for well I wot. 
Thou runn*ft before me, fliifting every place ; 
And dar'ft not ftand, nor look me in the face. 
Where art thou ? 

Puck. Come hither, I am here. 

^ ^ptak in fime hujh: nvhert dofi thou hide thy heaifX This pa& 
%e is printed thus in all the editions. The fenfc I think would 
DC clearer if the pointing were regulated thus : 

^fimk. In fern bujh f Wbtrit doft thou bide tbj hiadf 

St£evek$. 

Dem. 



74 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT's DREAM. 

Dem. Nay, then thou mock'ft me 5 thou (halt buy 
this dear, * 
If ever I thy face by day-light fee. 
Now, go thy way. Faintncfs conftraineth me 
To meafure out my length on this cold bed :— -r 
By day*s approach look to be vifated. \^IJes d&wn. 

Enter Helena. 

Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night. 
Abate thy hours ; fhine, comforts, from the eaft: 
That I may back to Athens by day-light. 

From thefe, that my poor company detcfl: :-— 
And, deep, that fometime fliuts up forrow's eye. 
Steal me a while from mine own company. [Sleeps. 

Puck. Yet but three ? come one more. 
Two of both kinds make up four. 
Here (he comes, cur ft and lad : — -j 

Cupid is a knavifh lad, I 

Thus to make poor females mad. J 

Enter Hermia. 
Her. Never fo weary, never fo in woe. 

Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers ; 
I can no further crawl, no further go ; 

My legs can keep no pace with my defires. 
Here will I reft me, ''till the break of day. 
Heavens (hield Lyfander, if they mean a fray ! 

[Lies down. 
Puck. On the ground 
Sleep found, 
I'll apply 
To your eye. 
Gentle lover, remedy. 

[Squeezing the juice on Lyfander*s eye. 

5 huy this iftar ;] i.e. ihcu Jhalt dearly pay for this. Though 

this is fcnfc, and may well enough (land, yet the poet perhaps 
wrote tboujhal: '^' /'/ d-^ir- So in another place, thoujhbb aby it. 
So Milton, Ho-w dtAxly I ^hidit that boaft Jo 'uain. Johnson. 

I When 



7i 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. 

When thou wak'ft, 
Thou tak*ft ^ 
True delight 
In the fighc 
Of thy former lady's eye : 
And the country proverb known. 
That every man mould take his own. 
In your waking fhall be (hown^ 
Jack ftiall have Jill/ 
Nought (hall go ill. 
The man (hall have his mare again, and all be wcIL 
[Exif Puck. [They JUep. 



\ 



•ACT IV. SCENE L 



THE WOOD. 

filter ^een of the Fairies^ Bottdtn^ Fairies attending^ 
and the King behind tbetn. 

Qu E E N. 

COME, fit thee down upon this flowery bed. 
While I thy amiable checks do coy, ^ 
Andftick mulk-rofes in thy fleck fmooth head ; 
And kifs thy fair large ears, my gentle joy. 
BoL Where's Peafebloflbm ? 
hafe. Ready. 

* Jack Jball ha've Jill, ^r.] Thefc three 1^ line? arc to be 
fcuDd among Hcywood's Epigrams on three hundred Proverbs. 

Steevens. 

* I fee no reafbn why the fbuith ad fhould begin here, when 
tWfccms no interruption of the adion. In the old qaartos of 
1600, there is no divifion of ads, which feems to have been af- 
terwards arbitrarily made i.j the firft folio, and may therefore bo 
altered at pleafure. Joh Ksoff. 

^ ^do ftfjr] To cGj is to footh. Skinner. 

Bot. 



f6 A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 

Bot. Scratch my head, Peafcbloflbm, — Where's 
monfieur Cobweb f 
Cob. Ready. 

Bot. Monfieur Cobweb; good monfieur, get your 
weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipc humble 
hee on the top of a thiftle; arid, good monfieur, bring 
me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourfelf too much in 
the aftion, monfieur ; and, good monfieur, have a 
care, the honey-bag break not \ I (hould be loth to 
have you over- flown with a honey- bag, fignion Where's 
monfieur Muftard-feed I 
Mufi. Ready. 

Bot. Give thy neif ', monfieur Muftard-feed ; pray 
you, leave your courtefy, good monfieur. 
Muft. What's your will ? 

Bot, Nothing, good monfieur, but to h^Ip Cava- 
loro Cobweb 9 to fcratch. I muft to the barber's, men- 
Heur \ for, methinks, I am marvellous hairy about 
the face: — and I am fuch a tender afs, if my hair 
doth but tickle me, I muft fcratch. 

^een. What, wilt thou hear fomc mufick, my 
fweet love ? 

Bot. I have a reafonable good ear in mufick : Ictus 
have the tongs and the bones. 
^een. Or fay, fweet love, what thou defir'ft to cat. 
Bot. Truly, a peck of provender \ I could munch 
your good dry oats. Methinks I have a great deiire 
to a bottle of hay : good hay, fweet hay, hath oo 
fellow. 

§u(cn, I have a venturous fairy that Ihall feek 
The fquirrcl's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts. 

S —— «/^.] i. c. fid. Henry IV. a6l ii. fc. lo. 
5aurf/ knight^ I kifs thy neif. Gray. 

• ^^Co'valero Cobnui:bJ\ Without doubt it fliould be Ca'umUr% 
Peafi'bhjfom ; as for Ca-valero Cobiveb, he had jufl been diipatched 
upon a perilous adventure. Gray. 

Mot. 



A MIDSUMMERNIGHrs DREAM- ^^ 
Scf. I had rather have a handful or two of dried 

peafc. But* I pray you, let none of your people ftir 

me ; I have an expolition of deep come upon me. 
^ueen. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms^ 

Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away.' 

So doth the woodbine, the fweet honey-fuckle. 

Gently entwift — the female ivv ' fo 

Enrings the barky fingers of the elm. 

Oy how I love thee 1 how I doat on thee ! 

OkerM 

' In the femer editions >— ->««/ ii always mwo^J] What ! wai 
Ihe giving her attendants an everlafting difmiflion I No fuch thing % 
ihty were to be ftill upon daty. I An convinced the poet meaati 

MM4f ii all ways swmy. 
L e« £fperie yaurielvesy and fcout oat feverallyy in yoor mmici 
that danger approach us from no quarter, Thbobald. 
Iff. Upton reads, 

Jimd ii mvaj'^mwqf. JOHRfOii. 

* Si dak tbi mnodiim tbi/wtit hmfyfwckU 

GiMSfyimtnmfii tbgYZUhhEii/yfi 

Emrings tbi larky fitgirs iftbt im*\ 
What does the ntnodUmi entwift ? The bituj-fuckU. But thefiiW> 
iim and biniy^fuckU were, till now, but two names for one and 
dw fiune plant. Florio, in his Italian Didlionary, bterprettJCa- 
dn Siivaoy nvadiinJi or bonrnifuekU. We m oft therefore find 
a fappon for the ^jifodiine as well as for the ivy* Which is dost 
by leading the lines thus ; 

Si dotb tbi wadiitUf tbi fivfit buttj-fuekJi^ 

GiUily entnuift tbi maple ; i<vj fi 

Enringi ibe barky fingiri if tbi ilm. 
TltecormptioB might happen by the firft blunderer dropping the 
/ in writing the word mapkf wluch word thence became auSe* A 
fcltowing traofcriber, for the fake of a little fenfe and meafure^ 
thought fit to change this mali into ftmali; and then uckcd it 9$ 
an epithet to I'v/. Warburton. 
Mr* Upton readf» 

So dotb tbi wcodrine tbifwat bifi^'ftukU% 
S» bark of the wQod. Shakefpeare perhaps only meant fOf the 
leaves involve the flower, ufing ivocJasne for the plant and biaijf* 
Jmckli tot the flower ; or perhaps Shakcipeare made, a blunder. 

JOHNSOlf. 

What 



7r a»*ieisuMM£R:nighwo^^^ 

Oberon advances. Ent&FnCk: • ^\ 

Oh. Welcome,' good Robin. Seift ihou this |v(rrt 

fight? ^ • " r 

Her dotage now I do begin to pity. ' ' >- 

For, meeting her of late behind the wood, ' ' ^ 
Seeking fweet favours * for'rhis hateful fool, 
I did upbraid her, and fall out with her ; 
For (he his hairy teiiiples then had rounded 
With coronet of frelh and fragrant flowers ; 
And that fame dew, which fometimes on the buds! 
Was wont to fwell,^likc round and orient pearl. 
Stood now within the pretty flouret's eyes. 
Like tears, that did their own difgrace bewail. * -• 
When I had, at my pleaTure, taunted her. 
And Ihe, in mild terms, begg'd my patience^ 
I then did afk of her her changeling child, ',' 

Which ftrait (he gave me, and her fairy fent 
To bear him to my bower in Fairy-land. 
And, now I have the boy, I will undo 
This hateful impcrfeftion of her eyes. 
And, gentle Puck, take this transformed fcal^ '' 

What Shakefpeare feems to mean, is this — So the ^vcod^ine, u 
ibefwiii honey •fiteklit Jot b gently ent^uiift the harkf Jinger$ ofthe^l{ 
tmd/o d9€i the female iijy enring the fame fingers. It is not oofi 
qaent in the Poets, as well as other writers, to explain one ^o 
by another which is better known. ^ The reafqn ^**y Shakefpca 
thought wDoodbine wanted explanation, perhaps is this. In for 
countries, by lucodhine or 'woodbind would be generally und( 
Jtood the Ivy« which he had occafion to mention in the very nc 
line. Steevbms. 

^ ■ ■ tbi fimale i'vy.l Shakefpeare calls it /«w/f ivy, I 
canfe it always requires Jome fupport, which is poetically cdl 
Us hufbarid. So Milton : 

" — led the vine 
<' To wed her elm : (he fpoas'd, about him twines^: 
** Her marriageable arms — — '* 
" Ulmo coDJundta marito." Cttulh 

•« Platannfque eatlebs 
" Evincet Ulmos. Hor. Steivbns. 
. ^.^viut faiiours^ The firft ediuon xtz6% favours. Steevej 

Fro 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. 79 

From off the head of the Athenian fwain ; 
That he, awaking, when the others do, 
:t^^ May all to Athens back again repair; 

And think no more of this night's accidents. 
But as the fierce vexation of a dream. 
But firft, I will releafe the Fairy queen ^ 

Be, as thou waft wont to be ; 
See, as thou waft wont to fee : 
Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower 
ii Hath fuch force and blcflcd powcr.^ 

Now, my Titania, wake you, my fweet queerr. 

^ueen. My Oberon! what vifionshavelfeeol 
Methought, I was enamojtf'd of an a(s. 

Ob. There lies your lov?. 

^een. How came thefe things to pafs ? 
Ob, how mine eyes doth loath this vifagc now I 

Ob. Silence, a while. Robin, take ofiT th» 

head. 

Titania, mufick call ; and flrike more dead 
Than common fleep of all thefe five the fenfe.^ 

^een. Mufick, ho! mufick: fuch as charmetk 
fleep. 

Still mufick. 

Tuck. Wbtn thou awak'ft, with thine own fool's 
eyes peep. 

' D'toM^s hud^ or Cupid* sfower,"] Thus all the editions. The 
hgenioas Dr. Thirlby gave mc the corredion, which I have in- 
fertedin the text. Theobald. 

• Titania^ mujitk call, and ftrikt more dead 
Than common Jltep Of all theje fi nc the fen/e. ] 
ITiis mod certainly is both corrupt in the text and pointing. Mj 
emendation needs no j unification. The/i;/, that lay afleep on 
the ftage were Demetrius, Lyfande r, Hermia, Helena, and Bot* 

torn. Dr. Thirlby likewife communicated this \tTy correct 

tion. Tbbobald. 

2 Ob. 



8d a MIDSUMMER.NIGHrs DREAM, 

Ob. Sound, mufick. Come, my queen, take hand 
with me. 
And rock the ground whereon thefe fleepers be. 
Now thou and I are new in amity ; 
And will to-morrow midnight folcmnly 
Dance in duke Thcfcus* houfe triumphantly. 
And blefs it to all fair ^ pofterity •, 
There (hall thefe pairs of faithful lovers be 
Wedded, with Thefeus, all in jollity. 

Puck. Fairy king, attend, and mark j 
I do hear the morning lark. 

Ob. Then, my queen, in filence fad j * 
Trip we after the night's (hade : 
We the globe can compaiairoon. 
Swifter than the wandVing moon. 

^een. Come, my lord, and in our flight 
fell me how it came this night. 
That I flceping here was found. 
With thefe mortals, on the ground. {Exeuntf 

[fVind herns within. 

Enter Thefeus ^ EgeuSy Hippolita^ and all his train. 

7he. Go, one of you, find out the foreftcr ;— 

■^ Dana in Duh Tbefius houfe triumphantly % 

And hh/s it to all FAIK fo/Itnty ;] 
We (kould read, 

— -/fl a'l FAR p9fttrify. 
1. c. to the remoteft poftericjr. Wa rburton. 

" Then^ my quetn^ in filence fad ; 

Trip we after the night* sjhade,'\ 
Mr. Theobald fays, tjuly fad? Fairitt are pleafed to foUovi night. 
He will have \\.fade \ aod To, to mend the rhime, fpoils both the 
fenfe tod grammar. But he miftdkes the meaning ofyW; it fig- 
nifies only grave, fober ; and is oppofed to their dances and re« 
jrels, which were now ended at the finging of the morning lark. 
* So Winter's Tale, a6l iv. hh father and the geutUmen an m 

SAD talk. For grave ot/erioHS. Warbvrton. 

For 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. 8| 

For now our obfervaxion is pcrform'd, ' 
And fince wc have the vaward of the day. 
My k>ve (h^Uhear the mufick of my bounds. 
Uncouple in the weftern valley ; go •, — 

Difpatcb, I fay, and find the forefter. 

We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top,' 
And mark the mufical coofufion 
Of hounds and echo ia conjundion. 

Hip. I was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once. 
When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear * 
With hounds of Sparta : never did I hear 
Such gallant chiding, * For, befides the groves. 
The Ikics, the fountains, every region near 
Sccm*d all one mutual cry ;, I wver beard 
80 mufical a difcord, fuch (weet thunder. 

The. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind. 
So J flcVd, fo ♦ fanded, and their heads are hung 
With ears that fweep away the morning dew ; 
Crook-knee'd, and dew-lap*d, like Theffalian bulls ; 
S\6m in purfuit, but match'd in nK)uth like bells. 
Each under each. A cry more tuneable 

^ • Our oh/tr*uauon is perform* J. ^ The honours due to the mom. 
ingof Aftfjr. I know not why Shakefpear calls this play a Mid- 
/nmmir'Night^s Dream, when Ijc Ibcarefally informs us that it hap- 
pened on the night preceding Miy daiy. Johnson. 

' tifsj bafd tbi biarA Thus all the old copies. I fuppofe 

we ihould read , the ioar. St b e v £ n s. 

* — -fucb gallant chiding.] Chiding in this inftance means only 
/ml So in Hen. VIII. 

** As doth a rock againd the chiding flood.** 
So in Humour ovt of Breath, Com. by John Day, 1608. 
■i ** I take great pride 
" Toiiear foft ro^^c^ and thy ihrill voice ch'tde.** 

Stbevbns. 
' B§piMi*dA i. c. fo moutbfd. Fle^ws are the large chaps of a 
deep-mouthed hound. Hanmcr. 

* StjUutdt^.] So marked with fraall fpots. Johnson., 
Sa9df*d means of a fandy colour, which is one of the true de« 

Bot c uieu is of a blood-hound. Stbeviks. 

Vol. III. G Was 



82 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT's DREAM. 

Was never halloo'd to, nor checr'd with horn. 
In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thcffaly : 
Judge, when you hear. — But foft, what nymphs arc 
thefe ? 

Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here afleep ; . 
And this Lyfander, this Demetrius is ; 
This Helena, old Nedar*s Helena : 
I wonder at their being here together. 

The. No doubt, they rofe up early, to obfervc 
The rite of May, and, hearing our intent, 
Came here in grace of our folemnity — 
But fpeak, Egeus, is not this the day. 
That Hermia fhould give anfwer of her choice? 

Ege. It is, my lord. 

The. Go bid the huntfmen wake them with their 
horns. 

Horns^ and fhout within \ Demetrius^ Lyfander^ Hermia 
and Helena^ wake and ftart up. 

'The. Good-morrow, friends ; faint Valentine is 
pad ; ^ 
Begin thefe wood-birds but to couple now ? 

Lyf. Pardon, my lord. \They all kneel to Tbefeuu 

The. I pray you all, (land up. 
I know, you two are rival enemies. 
How comes this gentle concord in the world. 
That hatred is fo far from jcaloufy. 
To deep by hate, and fear no enmity ? 

Lyf. My lord, I Ihall reply amazedly. 
Half, 'fleep, half waking : but as yet, I fwear, 
I cannot truly fay how I came here : 
Bur, as I think, (for truly would I fpeak. 
And now I do bethink me, fo it is) 
I came with Hermia hither. Our intent 



* faint Vahnt'tKi is pafti] Alluding to the old faying* 

That birds begin to couple on St. Valentine's day. St £ evens. 

I Was, 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHrs DREAM* 83 

Was, to be gone from Athens, where we might be 
Without the peril of the Athenian law. 

Ege. Enough, enough-, my lord, you have enough; 
I beg the law, the law upon his head : — 
They would have ftorn away, they would, Demetrius, 
Thereby to have defeated you and me: 
You, of your wife •, and me, of my confent ; 
Of my confent, that (he (hould be your wife. 

Dem. My lord, fair Helen told me of their ftealch, 
Of this their purpofe hither, to this wood ^ 
And I in fury hither follow'd them ; 
FairTielena in fancy following me. * 
But, my good lord, I wot not by what power, 
(But by fome power it is) my love to Hermit 
Melted as is the fnow, feems to me now 
As the remembrance of an idle gawd. 
Which in my childhood I did doat upon : 
And all the faith, the virtue of my heart, 
The objcft and the plcafure of mine eye. 
Is only Helena. To her, my lord. 
Was I betrothed ere I did fee Hermia : 
But, like a ficknefs, did I loath this food ; 
But, as in health, come to my natural taftc, 
Now do I wifh it, love it, long for it, 
And will for evermore be true to it. 

Tbe. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met : 
Of this difcourfe we fhall hear more anon.— • 
Egcus, I will over-bear your will ; 
For in the temple, by and by with us, 
Thefe couples Ihall eternally be knit. 
And, for the morning now is fomething worn, 

• Fair Helena in fancy foUowng me.] Fancy is here takci| for 
kfc or affe3ion^ and is oppofed tofury^ as before. 

Sighs and tian poor Fancy's followers. 
Some now call that which a man takes particular delight in hit 
fMuey, FUvter-fancier^ for a florift, and bird-fancier ^ for a lover 
Md feeder of birds, are colloquial words. Johnson. 

G 2 Our 



84 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHrs DREAM. 

Our purposed hunting (hall be fet afidc.— 
Away, with us to Athens : three and three. 
We'll hold a feaft in great folemnity.^— 
Come Hippolita. [Exe. Duke, HippoHta^ and train. 

Dem. Thefe things feemfmall and undtfttnguifliable. 
Like far-off mountains turned into clouds. 
, Her. Methinks I fee thefe things with parted eye; 
When every thing feems double. 

Hel. So, methinks: 
""And 1 have found Demetrius like a jewel, * 
Mine own, and not mine own. ^ 

Dem- Are you fure^ 
That we are awake ? — it feems to me 
That yet we Qeep, we dream. — Do not you think. 
The Duke was here, and bid us follow him ? 

^ And Ibafve found Lknetrius Uk4 a )eWel> 

Mine oi/uni t^d not mini #<itw.] 
Hermia had obferved that things appeared douiU to her. Helena 
replies, /o mttbinks ; and then fubjoins, that Demetrius was like 
zjtnvel, her own and not her own. He is here, then, compared 
to fdmething which had the property of appearing to be one tbiilj 
when it was another. Not tKe property fure of a jewel & or» if 
you will, of none but a falfe one^ We ihould readi 

Jnd I ba*vt found Demetrius iikt a c £ M B ll ^ 
Mine oivn, and not mine own. 

From Gmti/us, a twin. For Demetrius had that night adedtwa 
fuch different parts, that (he could hardly think them both played by 
one and the fame Demetrius ; but that there were twin Demetrius s 
like the two Sofia's in the Farce. — FrotaGemtiluj comes thePrenclK 
GemeaUf or Jumcau^ and iu the feminine, Gentclle or JmmilU : So 
in Ma9on's Tranflation of the Decameron of Boccace-^-^// oicfii/ 
iroit files plus age^es que les mofesy des quelles les deux qui efoitut, 
juMELLEs avcitnt quinxe ans, Quatrieme Jour. Nov. 3. 

WaI BURTON. 

This emendatloiL is ingenious enough to deferve to be true. 

Johnson. 

•; — ^ Are you fure 

tbmt m/4 art mwake ? 
'This pailage, hitherto omitted^ I have reftored from the quarto^ 
i6go. S-ngEvrNs. 

Her. 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT^s DREAM. 8j 

Her. Yea; and my father. 
HeL And Hippolita. 

Lyf. And he did bid us follow to the temple. 
Dem. Why ithen, we are awake ; let*s fpUow him; 
And, t^ the way, let us recount our dreams. [Exeunt. 

As tbey go out^ Bottom awakes. 

Bet. When my cue comes, call me, s^nd I will an- 
fwcr : — My next is, Moft fair Pyramus-*~— — -Hey, 
ho ! — ^Peter Quince ! place the bieUows-iTiender ! 
Snout the tinker ! Starveling ! God's my lik ! doyn 
heoce, and left me aQeep ! I have had a xnofi rare 
viGon. I had a dream, paCt the wit of man to fay 
what dream it was : maa is' but an afs if h^ go about 
to expound this dream. Methought I was,-.--thefc i^ 
ao man can tell what. Methought I was, and me- 

thought I had -^ Bu;t man is but ^ patch'd fool, ' 

if be will oflEcr to fay what methought 1 had. The 
eye of man hath not beard, the ear of n^vi ha<th no( 
feen ; man's hand is not able to tafte, his tongue to 
conceive, nor his heart to report what my dream was. 
I win get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream : 
it (halt be eall'd Bottom's Dream, becaufe it hath no 
bottom ; and I mil ling it in the latter end of a play, 
before the Duke : ' Peradventure, to make it the 
more gracious, I fhall fmg it. at her death. ' [Exit, 

SCENE 

^ f^^mam is iui a patched fo^J] The quarto, i6ob, gi?c| th^ 
{Hff^thus; <* fiutmanis but/A/r^V«/0«/, &c." 

Stbevbns. 
^ Patched fid^'l That Isy a Ibol in a particolour'd coat. 

Johnson. 
^ Iwillfimg^ &C.] Informer editions : Ftrad'ucntttri to maAit tb$ 
mart gracious ^ I JhsUfiMg it ^xhtT death. At oui^^ death? TnBottom's 
ipeedi diere 19 AO mention of anyihe-creatiire, to whom this relative 
can be coupled. 1 make not the jead fcruple but Bottom, forthefake 
of a jeft, ^nd to render his *voluntary^ as we may call it, the more 
cracioot Md extraordinaryr faid ; — / Jhail Jing it ofter death, 
He^ as Pyramus, is kill'd upon the 4cefie ; and ib n^ight pro(nife 

G 3 to 



86 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM^ 

S C E N E II. 

Athens, ^ince^s boufe. 
Enter ^nnce^ Fluie^ Snout j and Starveling. 

^an. Have you fcnt to Bottom's houfc ? is he 
come home yet ? 

Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt, he 
is tranfported. 

Flu. If he come not, then the play is marr'd. It 
goes not forward, doth it ? 

^in. It is not poflible ; you have not a man in all 
Athens, able to difcharge Pyramus, but he. 

Flu. No ; he hath fimply the beft wit of any handy- 
craft man in Athens. 

^in. Yea, and the beft perfon too : and he is a 
very paramour, for a fweet voice. 

Flu. You muft fay, paragon : a paramour is (God 
blefs us !) a thing of nought. * 

Enter Snug. 
Snug. Matters, the duke is coming from the temple, 
and there is two or three lords and ladies more mar- 
ried : if our fport had gone forward, we had all been 
made men. ^ 

to rife again at the conclufion of the interlude, and give the duk'e 
his dream by way of fong The fource of the corruption of 

the text is very obvious. The/ in after being funk by thfe vul- 
gar pronunciation, the copyift might write it from the found, 
a'Ur : which the wife editors not underftanding, concluded, two 
words were erroncoufly got together ; fo, fplitting them, and 
clapping in an h, produced the prcfent reading — at her. 

Theobald. 

* — at her ^eath.] He means the ^eaih of Thific, which is 
what his head is at prefent full of. Ste evens. 

* ji thing of nought^'] which Mr. Theobald changes with great 
pomp to a thing of naughty is, a good for nothing thing. 

Johnson. 
' Trade mfn.] In the fame fcnfe as in the T^mfef, etny ntcmjlgr in 
£r:gland n ^kes a man. Johnson. 

Flu. 



A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 87 

Flu. O fwcct bully Bottom ! Thus hath he loft fix- 
pcncc a day during his life : he could not have 'fcapcd 
fix-pence a-day : an the duke had not given him fix- 
pence a-day for playing Py ramus, Til be hang'd : he 
would have deferv'd it. Six-pence a-day, in Pyramus, 
or nothing. 

Enur Bottom. 

Bet. Where arc thefe lads ? where are thcfe hearts? 

^H. Bottom ! — O moft courageous day ! O moft 
happy hour 1 

Bet. Mafters, I am to difceurfe wonders, but afk 
me not what ^ for, if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. 
I will tell you every thing right as it fell out. 

%/ff. Let us hear, fweet Bottom. 

Bet. Not a word of me. All I will tell you is, 
that the duke hath dined. Get your apparel toge- 
ther 5 good ftrings to your beards, new ribbons to 
your pumps; meet prefently at the palace; every 
man look o'er his part; for, the fhort and the long is, 
our play is preferred. In any cafe, let Thift^y have 
dean linen; and let not him, that plays the lion, pare 
his nails, for they fhall hang out tor the lion's claws. 
And, moft dear aftors ! eat no onions, nor garlick, 
for we are to utter fweet breath ; and I do not doubt, 
but to hear them fay, it is a moft fweet comedy. No 
more words-, away ; go, away. [Exeunt. 



ACT 



88 A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 
ACT V. SCENE I. 

<r H E PALACE. 

Enter Tbe/eusy Hippolita^ EgeuSy and bis Lords. 

Hippo Lit A, 
^rr^ I S ftrangc, my Thefcus, that thcfc lovers 

J[ fpeak of. 

The. More ftranee than true. I never may bclkvc* 
Thefe antique fables, nor thefe fairy toys ; 
Lovers, and madmen, have fuch feething brains, 
Such fhaping fantafies, . that apprehend 
More than cool reafon ever comprehends, 
^he lunatick, the lover, and the poet. 
Are of imagination all compaft : 
One fees more devils than vaft hell can hold ^ 
That is the madman : The lover, all as frantick, ' 
Sees Helenas beauty in a brow of Egypt. 
The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling. 
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to 

heaven ; 
And, as imagination bodies forth 
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen 
Turns them to (hapes, and gives to airy nothing 
A local habitation, and a name. 
Such tricks hath ftrong imagination, 
That, if he would but apprehend fome joy. 
It comprehends fome bringer of that joy ; 

♦ Thefe beautiful lines arc in all the old editions thrown out of 
metre. They arc very well reftored by the later editors. 

JOHIISON. 

' That is the madman : the lover ^ all as /ran/id. 1 Such is the 
reading of all the old copies i inftead of which, the modern edU 
tofs have given us, 

♦* The madman: while the lover all as frantick." 

Or, 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. 89 

Or, in the night, imagining fome fear. 
How cafy is a bu(h fupposM a bear ? 

Hip. But all the ftory of the night told over. 
And all their minds transfigured lb together. 
More witneflcth that fancy's images, 
And grows to fomething of great conftancy 5 ^ 
But,howfoever, ftrange, and admirable. 

Enter Lyfander^ Demetrius^ Hertnia and Helena. 

The. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth. 
Joy, gentle friends ! joy and frefti days of love 
Accompany your hearts ! 

Ljf. More than to us. 
Wait on your royal walks, your board, your bed ! 

The. Come now ; what malks, what dances Ihall 
we have. 
To wear away this long age of three hours. 
Between our aftcr-fupper, and bed-time ? 
Where is our ufual manager of mirth ? 
What revels are in hand ? Is there no play. 
To cafe the anguifh of a torturing hour ? 
CallPhiloftrate.* 

Enter Pbilqftrate. 

Pbiloji. Here, mighty Thefeus. 
Tbe. Say, what abridgment ^ have you for this 
evening? 

^ CoMffancy,] Confiflcncy ; ftability ; certainty. Johnson. 

• Ou! PiiJofirate.] In the folio, 1625, it is, Call Egetis, and 
»1I the fpeeches afterwards fpoken by Philoftrate, are there given 
to that charafter. Bat the modern editions, from the quarto 1600, 
have rightly given them to Philoftrate, who appears in the firll 
fccne as mafter of the revels to Thefeus, and is there fent out on 
afimilar kind of errand. St b evens. 

^ Sitf ivlua ahridgmeftU ^J By ahridgmint our author means 
dramatick performance, which crowds the events of years into as 
many houn. So in Hamlet, ad ii. fc. 7. he calls the players 
9miffimis% ahftraQs^ and briff€bromclts 0/ the titm. Stbevens. 

What' 



90 A MIDSUMMER.NIGHrs DREAM, 

What made ? what mufick ? How Ihall wc beguile 
The lazy time, if not with fome delight ? 

Pbilojt. There is a brief, how many fports arc ripe;* 
Make choice of which your highnefs will fee firft. 

[Giving a paper^ 

The. reads. ^] The battle of the Centaurs^ to be Jung 
by an Athenian eunuch to the harp. 
We'll none of that. That I have told my love. 
In glory of my kinfman Hercules. 
The Rot of the tipfy Bacchanals, 
Tearing the Thracian finger in their rage. 
That is an old device ; and it was play*d. 
When I from Thebes came laft a conqueror, 
' The thrice three Mufes mourning for the death 
Of learnings late deceased in beggary. 
That is fome fatire, keen and critical ; * 
Not forting with a nuptial ceremony, 
A tedious brief fcene of young Py ramus. 
And his love Thifby \ very tragical mirth. 

• One of the quartos has ripe^ the other old editions, rife. 

JOHNSOir. 

» The. reads."] This is printed as Mr. Theobald gave it from 
both the old quartos. In the firft folio, and all the followingedi- 
tions, Lyfander reads the catalogue, and Thefeus makes the re- 
marks. Johnson. 

* Tbi thrice three Mu/es tnourning for the death 

Of learnings &c.] 
I do not know whether it has been before obferved, that Shake- 
fpeare here, perhaps, alluded to Spenfer's poem, entitled The Tears 
of the Mufes, on the neglefl and contempt of learning. This 
piece firil appeared in quarto, with others 1591. The oldeft edi- 
tion of this play now known is dated 1 600. If Spcnfer's poem be 
here intended, may we not prefume that there is ibme earlier edi- 
tion of this ? But however, if the allufion be allowed, at leaft it 
feems to bring the play below 1591. Warton. 

* — i^/» ««</ rr//iVtf/.] Cf///Vfl/ here means criticizing^ aM* 
furittg. So in Othello : 

O, / am nothing if not critical, St E evens. 

Merry 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHTs DREAM, gt 

Merry and tragical ? Tedious and brief? 
That is, hot ice, and wonderous ftrange fnow. * 
How (hall we find the concord of this difcord ? 
Pbilojt. A play there is, my lord, fomc ten words 
long. 
Which is as brief, as I have known a play ; 
But by ten words, my lord, it is too long; 
Which makes it tedious : for in all the play 
There is not one word apt, one player fitted. 
And tragical, my noble lord, it is : 
For Eyramus therein doth kill himfelf. 
Which, when I faw rehears'd, I muft confefs. 
Made mine eyes water ; but more merry tears 
The paflion of loud laughter never fhed. 
The. What are they, that do play it ? 
Pbiloji. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens 
here. 
Which never labourM in their minds 'till now ; 
And now have toil'd their unbreath'd memories ♦ 
With this fame play againft your nuptial. 
Jbe. And we will hear it. 
Pbiloji. No, my noble lord, 
his not for you. I have heard it over, 

^ Merry and tragical ? Ttdhus and brief f 
Tbatis^ hot iuy and lAJondrous ft? angt snow.] 

The nonfenfe of the lad line fhould be correded thus. 
That iSf hot ictj a njDOndrous firangt show. 

Waiburtoh. 
Air. Upton reads, not improbably. 

And nvendroMs ftrange black fnoiv. Jo h n son . 

Dr. Warburton reads, a wondrous ftraffge ft^otv. Sir T. H. 
*mndrous /coaching fnonv. Mr. Pope omits the line entirely. I 
diink the pafTage needs no alteration, on account of the verfifica<- 
tion ; for nvondtrous is as often ufed as tbree^ as it is as t^o fyl- 
lables. The meaning of the line is ** That is, hot ice and 

" fnow of as flrange a quality." St b evens. 

^ ■ u nhreafh'd memories,] That if , unexercifed, unprac- 
fiiSed memories. Steevens. 

And 



92 A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 

And it is nothing, nothing in the worlds 
Unlefs you can find fport in their intents, * 
Extremely ftretch'd^ and conn'd with cruel pain. 
To doVou fcrvice. 

The. I will hear that play : 
For never any thing can be amifs. 
When fimpknefs and duty tender it. 
Go, bring them in, and take your places, ladies. 

[Ejfit Phil 

Hip. I love not to fee wretchcdncfs o'ercharg*dt 
And duty in his fervice pcrilhing. 

The. Why, gentle fweet, you fhall fee np fuch 
thing. 
Our fport (hall be, * to take what they miftake ^ 
And what poor duty cannot do, ^ 
Noble refpeft takes it in n^ight, not merit. 
Where I have come, great clerks have purpofcd 
To greet me with premeditated welcomes % 
Where I have fecn them fliiver and look paje. 
Make periods in the midftof fentences. 
Throttle their praftis*d accent in their fears, 

♦ XJnhfs you canfnJfp$rt in thtir intents.^ Thus all the copies. 
But as I know not what it is to Jlretcb and con an intent^ I fufped 
a line to be lofl. Johnson. 

• Ourjport jhaU be^ &c.] Voltaire fays foxncthin^j like thii 
of Louis XIV. who took a pleafure in feeing hiscoorticrs in con- 
foiion when they fpoke to him. STfi£V£^«. 

' And mthat poor duty cannot do^ 

Nolle refptSi takes it in mighty not tnerit.^ 
The fenfeof this paflage, as it now (lands, if it has any fenie, is 
this: IVbmt tbt inabHuyof duty cannat ptrformy rtgardful gtmrcfitf 
recei'ues as an aSi of abihtu though not of merit. The contrary is 
rather true : What dutifulmfs tries to perform 'without ability, rfgardf 
ful gentrofuy rtcti'vts us halving the merU* though not the famaerf of 
mmpUu performance. 

We ibould therefore read. 

And fuihat pcorduiy cannot do^ 

JfMi re/pet:? takes mat in mighty ^f mrk. Jonmou . 

And, 



A MlDSUMMER-NIGHT's DREAM. 91 

And, lA coAclufion, dumbly have broke off, 

Not paying me a welcome. Truft me, fwcct. 

Out of this filence, yet, I pick'd a welcome : 

And in the modefty of fearftil duty 

I read, as much, as from the rattling tongue 

Of fawcy and audacious eloquence. 

Love, therefore, and tongue-ty'd fimplicity^ 

In Icaft fpcak moft, to my capacity. 

Enter Pbilofirate. 

Phikjt. So pleafe your grace, the prologue is ad- 

dreft.^ 
The. Let him approach. [Flour. Trum. 

Enter ih prologue. 

PfoL ]^we offend^ it is with our good wiU.^^ 

Tieiyou Jbould think, we come not to offend. 
Bin mtb good-will. To Jhtw our Jimple JkiU^ 

That is the true beginnivg of our end. 
Cenfider then we come hut m defpite^^ 

We do not comcy as minding to content you'**"*^ 
Our true intent is — All for jour delight^ 

We are not here^ that you Jhould here repent yoUy 

fbe aSors are at band \ and by their fhow, 

Tou Jhall know all^ that you are like to knew. 

The. This fellow doth not ftand upon points. 

Ljf. He hath rid his prologue, like a rough colt ; 
He knows not the ftop. A good moral, my lord :— 
it is not enough to fpeak, but to fpeak true. 

Hip. IndecS he hath playM on this prologue, like 
a child on a recorder ; * a found, but not in govern- 
ajcnt.' 

T ■ inldtefi,'] That X9, tzttSj. Hen. V. 

«• To-morrow for cur march we are dddrifi.** • 

StB-EVK N«k 

• —Mr recorder.] A kind of flute. Shakefpeare introduced it 
in Hamlet, and Milton fays, 

€€ To 



54 A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 

The. His fpeech was like a tangled chain ; noth 
impaired, but all difordered. Who is next ? 

I Enter Pyramus and I'bijbej IFally Moon/bine^ and Ia 
as in dumb Jhow. 

ProL " Gentles, perchance, you wonder atthis flic 

*^ But wonder on, till truth make all things ph 
«« This man is Pyramus, if you would know j 

•* This beauteous lady Thilby is, certain. 
" This man, with lime and rough-caft, doth pref 
. *' Wall, thatvile wall, which did thefe lovers fund 
•' And through wall's chink, poor fouls, they arc a 
" tent 

" To whifper ; at the which let no man wondc 
•* This man, with lanthorn, dog, and bulh of tho) 

" Prcfcntcth Moon-fliine : for, if you will knc 
** By moon-fliinc did thefe lovers think no fcorn 

*< To meet at Ninus* tomb, there, there to woo, 
«* This grifly beaft, which by name Lion hight, * 
«* The trufty Thifby, coming firft by night, 
•* Did fcare away, or rather did affright : 
*' And as fhe fled, her mantle fhe did fall ; * 

<« To the found of foft recordin.** 
It is found in very many of the old plays. Steevbks. 

9 — iut not in govirnment. ] That is, not regularly accordioj 
the tune. St sevens. 

' In this place the folio, 1623, exhibits the following pros 
ter*s direction. Tanvjir with a trumpet hffort thctn, SrEEVEit 

* ' which Lion hight by name.] As all the other pj 

of this fpeech are in alttrnati rhyme, excepting that it dofes w 
a ioupUt ; and as no rhyme is left to namt ; we mud conclu 
either a verfe is dipt out, which cannot now be retrieved ; or, 
a tranfpofition of the words, as I have placed them, the poet 
tended a triplit. Th e ob a l d . 

« hermantUJhe Md faliJ] Thus all the old copi 

The modem editions read, — ** fhe let fall," unneccffarily. 
IP the Temped, a& ii. fc. i. 

** And when I rear my hand do yoo the like, 
*• To fall II on Gonzalo." Stsivens. 

« Whi 



A MIDSUMMER. NIGHrs DREAM. 95 

" Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did (lain. 
" Anon comes Pyramus, fwcet youth, and tall, 
i " And finds his trufty Thi(by*s mantle Gain ; 
" Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade,* 

" He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breaft. 
" And Thifby, tarrying in mulberry (hade, 

" His dagger drew, and died. For all the reft, 
** Let Lion, Moon-lhine, Wall, and lovers twain, 
" At large difcourfe, while here they do remain." 

[Exeuni all but IFall. 

fbe. I wonder, if the Lion be to fpeak. 

Dem. No wonder, my lord : one Lion may, when 
many afles do. 

fVall. " In this fame interlude, it doth befall, 
** That I, one Snout by name, prefent a wall : 
" And fuch a wall, as I would have you think, 
^^ That had in it a crannied hole, or chink ; 

♦ Whereau 'ontb hladi^ nxith bUody blameful b}adty'\ Mr. Upton 
rightly obferves, that Shakefpeare in this line ridicules the affedla* 
ttOQ of beginning many words with the fame letter. He might 
hare remarked thft fame of 

Tbt raging rocks 
And Jhi'Oiring Jhocks» 

Gafcoigne, contemporary with our poet, remarks and blames 
the fame ^edbtion. Joh nson . 

This alliteration fecms to have reached the height of its fafliion 
in the reign of Hen. VIII. The following ftanzais quoted from a 
poem Ontbe Fall andfvil Succffs of RebtlHon, written in 1537, by 
Wilfridc Holme. 

" Loe, leprous lurdeins, lubricke in loquacitie, 
*' Vah, vaporous villeins, with venim vulnerate, 
" Proh, prating parenticides, plexious to pinnolitie, 
" Fie, frantike, tabulators, furibund, and fatuate. 
'* Out, oblatrant, oblidt, obftacle, and obcecate. 
" Ah addidl algoes, in acerbitie acclamant 
<* Magnall in mifchief, malicious to mugilate, 
^* Repriving your Roy fo renowned and radiant." 

InTuflcr's Hufbandry, page 104, there is a poem, of which ^x'try 
word begins with a T. Steevbns, 

«* Through 



^6 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHTs DREAM. 

** Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thifby, 

" Did whifper often very fecretly. 

*^ This lome, this rough-caft, and this (tone doth 

** fliew, 
*^ That I am that fame wall ; the truth is ia 
** And this the cranny is, right and finifter, 
•* Through which the fearfu4 lovers are to whifper.'* 

7*be. Would you defire lime and hair to fpeak 
better ? 

Dtm. It is the wittieft partition that ever I heard 
difcourfc, ^ my lord. 

Tbe. Pyramus draws near the wall: filencel 

Enter Pyramus. 

Pyr. " O grim-look'd qight ! O night wkh hue fo 
** black! r> 

" O night, which ever art, when day is not! 
** O night, O night, alack, alack, alack, 

*' I fear my Thifby*s promife is forgot ! 
** And thou, O wall, O fweet, O lovely wall, 

*' That ftand*fl: between her father's ground 2nd 
" mine; 
** Thou wall, O wall, O fweet and lovely wall, 

^*^ Shew me thy chink to blink through with mine 
" eyne. 
** Thanks, courteous wall: Jove Ihield thee well 
** for this ! 

« But what fee I? No Thifby do I fee. 
<* O wicked wall, through whom I fee no hlifs ; 

*' Curft be thy ftoncs for thus deceiving me !" 

Tb€. The wall, mcthinks, being fenfible, (hould 
curfe again. 

Pyr. No, in truth, fir, he (hould not. Deceiving 
me is Thilby's cue ; (he is to enter now, and 1 am to 
fpy her through the wall. You (hall fee, it will fall 
pat as I told you : — Yonder (he comes. 

flnier 



A MIDSUMMER^NlGHrs DREAM, ^i 

Enter Tbijby. 

Wnf. ** O wall, ftill often haft thou heard my 

** moans, 
•* For parting my fair Py ram us and me: 
My cherry lips hath often kifs*d thy ftones ; 
•« Thy ftones with lime and hair knit up in thee." [ 
Pyr. " I fee a voice : now will I to the chink, 
•* To fpy an I can hear my Thifby*s face. 
Thift>y !'• 

?&/. " My love ! thou art, my love, I think/* 
Fjr. " Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's 
•* grace, 
' And like Limander am I trufty ftifl.*** 
Ibif. " And I like Helen till the fates me kill". 
jy*. •* Not Shafalus to Procrus was fo true,** 
^bif. •* As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you *' 
PjT. ** O kifs me through the hole of this vile 

" wall." 
mf. " I kifs the wairs hole, not your lips at all.** 
?jr. " Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me ftraight- 

*« way ?*' 
Thif. " Tide life, tide death, I come without delay.** 
Wall. " Thus have I Wall my part difchargcd fo : 
" And being done, thus Wall away doth go.** 

{Exeunt JValU Pyramus^ andT^hiJhj^ 
fbe. Now is the mural down between the two 
neighbours. 

' Dm. No remedy, my lord, when walls are fo wil- 
ful to hear without warning. ^ 

Hip 

"knit up in fhee.] Thus the folio. The quarto reads. 



kmtufMgMn. Stbevens. 

^ And like LimamJer^ &c.] Limander and Helen, are fpoken by 
the Uondejinfl; player, for Leander and Hero. Shafalus and Fro- 
^ eras, for Cephalns and Procris. Joh n son. 

^ Thef. Ainv istbi Mural doum hfiwun the tnv neighhours. 
Dan. No remedy^ my lord, nvhiu walls an /c wiljul to hear 
Vol. III. H wth^mt 

U 



98 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. 

Hip. This is the CllicftftuflF that ever I heard. 

^he. The bcft in this kind are but Ihadows, and 
the worft are no worfe, if imagination amend them. 

Hip. It mud be your imagination then, and not 
theirs. 

The. If we imagine no worfe of them, than they ol 
themfclves, they may pafs for excellent men. Here 
come two noble beads in, ^ a moon and a lion, 

• Enter Lion and Moonjhine. 

Lion. *^ You, ladies, you, whofe gentle hearts dc 
" fear 

"The fmalleftmonftrousmoufethat creeps on floor, 
" May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here, 

" When lion rough in wildeft rage doth roar, 
" Then know that I, as Snug the joiner, am ' 
" A lion fell, nor elfe no lion's dam : 

iviihout nuarning.'] Shakcfpearc could never write this nonfenfe : 
uc (hould read— /tf rear ivitbout nuarning, i. c. It is no won- 
der that walls (hould be fuddenly down when they were as fud^ 
denly up ; ^^reor*d ^without ivarning* Warburtow. 

* Heri (omi fwo noblo heafts in a man anii a lion.] I don't think 
the jell here is either compleat, or right. It is differently pointed 
in fevcral of the old copies, which, I fulped, may lead us to the 
true reading, viz. 

Hen conu tivo mhU beafts^^ in a man and a lien. 
immediately upon Thefeus faying this, Enter Lion and Moon. 
ihine. It feems very probable therefore, that our author wrote, 
in a moon and a lidny 

the one having a crefcent and a lanthorn before him, and repre- 
fenting the man in the moon ; the other in a lion's hide. 

Theobald. 

* Then knonn^ that I one Snug tbe joiner am ;] The folio, 1623, 
reads, a lion fell, which not agreeing with the remainder of thi 
fpcech, the modern editors have altered it into no lion fell. Had 
they in this inftance confulted the quarto, 1600, it would havefet 
them right : •• 

** Then know that I, as Snug the joyaer am 

** A lion fell,, nor elfe no lyons dam. Stbevins. 

For 



'a 



A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT's DREAM. 99 

" For if I ihould as lion come in ftrifc 
" Into this place, 'twere pity of my life." 

The. A very gentle beaft, and of a good confciencc. 

Dem. The very bcft at a beaft, my lord, that e'er I 
law. 

Lyf. This lion is a very fox for his valour. 

The. True ; and a goofe for his difcretion. 

Dem. Not fo, my lord : for his valour cannot carry 
his difcretion, and the fox carries the goofe. 

The. His difcretion, I am fure, cannot carry his 
valour ; for the goofe carries not the fox. It is well : 
leave it to his difcretion, and let us liften to the moon. 

Moon. *^ This lanthorn doth the horned moon 
« prefent:" 

Dem. He fhould have worn the horns on his head. 

The. He is no crefcent, and his horns are invifiblc 
within the circumference. 

Moon. " This lanthorn doth the horned moon 
" prefent: 
** Myfelf the man i'th'moon doth feem to be." 

The. This is the greatcft error of all the reft; the 
man (hould be put into the lanthorn : how is it elfe 
the man i'the moon ? 

Dem. He dares not come there for the candle : for 
you fee, it is already in fnufF. * 

Hip. I am aweary of this moon : would he would 
change ! 

The. It appears by his fmall light of difcretion, 
that he is in the wane : but yet, in courtcfy, in all 
Tcafon, we muft ftay the time. 

Lyf. Proceed. Moon. 

Moon. All that I have to fay, is to tell you that the 
lanthorn is the moon ; I, the man in the moon ; this 
thorn-buihy my thom-bu0i ; and this dog, my dog. 

* ^-^Jmuf.] An equivocation. Snvff figni&ci both the cinder 
oft candle, and haftjr anger. Joh nsom . 

H 2 Dem. 



ir^-^"^ 



lOO A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. 

Bern. Why, all thcfc fliould be in the lanthorn ; 
for they are in the moon. But, filence \ here comes 
Thifby. 

Enter Thijbe. 

Thif. " This is old Ninny's tomb ; where is my 
" love?** 

Lion. " Oh.—" [The Lion roars. Tbijberunsif. 

Bern. Well roar'd. Lion. 

rbe. Well run, Thifbe. 

Hip. Wellfhone, Moon. 
Truly, the Moon (bines with a good grace. 

The. Well moused. Lion. 

Bern. And then came Pyramus. 

Lyf. And fo the Lion vanifti'd. 
Enter P)ramus. 

Pyr. ** Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy funny 
" beams: 

" I thank thee. Moon, for Ihining now fo bright ; 
" For by thy gracious, golden, glittering ftreams, * 

" I truft to tafte of trueft Thifby's figljt. 
•* But (lay ;— O fpight ! 
« But mark j — Poor knight, 

*' What dreadful dole is here ? 
** Eyes, do you fee ? 
" How can it be ? 

" O dainty duck ! O dear f 
•* Thy mantle good, 
" What, ftain'd with blood? 

" Approach you furies fell! 
" O fates ! come, come, 
" Cut thread and thrum -,' 

" Quail, cru(h, conclude, and quell !** 



'^glituriHgftnami,\ The old copies read hemmi. 

Stbeviks. 
-cut tlread and thrum.'\ Tbrmm is the end orextit* 



mity of a weaver's warp ; it is popularly ufcd for very coarfe ytni, . 
The maids now call a mop of yarn a thrum mop. W a r n e r . 

^bi. 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHTS DREAM. lo i 

The. This paflion, and the death of a dear friend 
^viroold go near to make a man look fad. 

Bp. Befhrew my heart, but I pity the man, 

fyr. «* O wherefore, nature, didft thou lions frame? 

" Since lion vile hath here dcflour*d my dear : 
*• Which is— 4K>, no — which was the fairefl: dame, 

•* That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd^ that looked 
** with cheer. 
*^ Come tears, confound; 
^* Out fword, and wound 

" The pap of Pyramus : 
" Ay, that left pap, 
" Where heart doth hop :— 

** Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. 
" Now am I dead, 
"Now am I fled; 

" My foul is in the (ky ; 
" Tongue, lofe thy light ! 
" Moon, take thy flight ! 

** Now die, die, die, die, die. 

[Dies. ExU Moonfiine. 

Dm. No die, but an ace for him ; for he is but one. 

Ljif. Lefs than an ace, man ; for he is dead ; he 
isnothmg. 

ne. With the help of a furgeon he might yet re- 
cover, and prove an afs. * 

Hip. How chance the Moonlhine is gone, before 
Thiiby come back and finds her lover i 

s mmmmmomJ frave am a/s,] The charader of Thefeus in this play 
is acre exalted in his humanity, than his greatnefs. Thoujgh 
faaeienfiUeobfeiTations on life, and animated defcriptions fall 
fion him, as it is faid of Jago, y^ujhould tajie him more as afoU 
ivr thmn as m voity which is a diftindion he is here driving to de- 
fenft, thoueh with little fuccefs ; as in fupport of his pretenfioni 
he never riles higher than a pun^ and frequently finks as low as a 
fmUh. Stbbybns. 

H 2 Enter 



102 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHri DREAM. 
Enter Tbijhe. 

The. She will find him by ftar-lightr 
Here fhe comes, and her pailion ends the play. 

Hip. Mechinks, (he (bould noc ufe ^ long, one for 
fuch a Pyramus : I hope, (he will be brief. 

Bern. A moth will turn the ballancc^.which Pyra* 
mus, which Thifbe, is the better ;-—; ^ 

Lyf. She hath Tpied him already with ^ofe fweet 
eyes. 

Bern, And thus fhe moans, videluit^-^-^l 

Thif. " Aflcep, my lOve ? 
** What, dead, my dove? 
" O Pyramus, arife, 

" Speak, fpcak. Quite dumb? :•'.., 

" Dead, dead ? A tomb 
** Muft cover thy fweet eyes, 
" Thefe lilly brows, ^ 
*^ This cherry nofe, 
" Thefe yellow cowflip cheeks, 
*' Are gone, are gone : 
** Lovers, make moan ! 
*' His eyes were green as leeks. 
" O fifters three, 
" Come, come, to me, 

5 The firft folio edition makes this Tpecch a little longer, trot 
not better. Johnson. 

^ ArM thus fij means—] Thus all the editions have it. It 
fhould be, thus (he moa'is^ /. e, laments over the dead Pyramus. 

Theobald. 
" Tbf/e lilly lips, tbi$ cherry nofe ] All Thifby's lameotaciont 
till now, runs in regular rhyme and metre. But both, by fbmc 
accident, are in this fmgle inllance interrupted. I fufpcd the 
poet wrote ; 

Thefe lilly brows, 
T/iis cherry nc/e. 

Now black brows being a beauty, lilly brows are as ridiculous tt * 
r^rrry nofe, green eyes, or coiujlip checks, Theobald. 

« With 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. 1 03 

'-^ With hands as pale as milk ; 
^ Lay them in gore^^ 

* Since you have ftiqrc 

^ With Ihcars his thread of filk. 

' Tongue, not a word : — 

^ Con>e, trufty fword ; 

* Come, blade, my brcaft imbrue : 

* And farewel, friends -, — 

* Thus Thifby ends : 

'' Adieu, adieu, adieu." [Dies. 

The. Moonftiine and Lion are left to bury the dead. 

Dm. Ay, and Wall too. 

Bit. No, I affure you, the wall is down that parted 
their fathers. ' WiH \i pleafe you to fee the epi- 
logue, or to hear a Bergomafk dance, between two 
of our company ? 

7be. No epilogue, I pray you ; for your play needs 
noexcufe. Never exciife; for when the players are 
all dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if 
he, that writ it, had play*d Pyramus, and hang'd 
himfelf in Thifbc's garter, it would have been a fine 
tragedy: and fo it is, truly, and very notably dif- 
charg'd. But come, your Bergomafk : let your epi- 
logue alone. \_Here a dance of clowns. 
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve :— 
Lovers to bed -, 'tis almoft Fairy time. 

' Lwf them in gore] Mr. Theobald and Dr. Warburton inftcad 
of /tff, read lave, but have no note to juftify or account for the 
alteration. Stb evens. 

» fTtL ii pUafe, &c.] The quarto in 1600 gives this fpeech to 
Lioo, but^ an epilogue and hear a dance is fo much in Bottom's 
chancer, that the modern editors are jufliEed in relloring it to 
him. Warner. 

ABergiuaJk dance,'\ (As fir T. H. obferves in his GlofTary) 
is a dance after the mander of the peafants 0/ Brrgomafco, i 
coantiy in Italy, belonging to the Venetians. All the buf- 
foons in Iialj affeft to imitate the ridiculous jargon of that people, 
and from thence it became alfo a cuilom to imitate their manner 
ofdaaciog. Steivbks. 

H 4 I fear, 



,o4 A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. 

I fear, wc (hali out-flccp the coming morn. 

As much as we this night have overwatched. 

This palpable grofs play hath well beguilM 

The heavy ' gait of night. — Sweet friends, to bed.— 

A fortnight hold we this folemnity, 

In nightly revels and new jollity. [Examt. 

SCENE IL 

Enter Puck. - 

Puck. Now the hungry lion roars. 

And the wolf beholds the moon : * 
Whilft the heavy ploughman fnores. 

All with weary talk fore-done. ' 
Now the wafted brands do glow, 

Whilft the fcritch-owl, fcritching loud. 
Puts the wretch, that lies in woe. 

In remembrance of a fhroud. 
Now it is the time of night. 

That the graves, all gaping wide. 
Every one lets forth his fpright. 

In the church-way paths to glide ; 

' £««*/•] ^' C' pajptgtf pfOgT^f'" StI EVENS. 

' In the old copies ; And thi njodf beholds /W iidt«.] As *tit 
the defign of tjiefe lines to characterize the a.iisiab* as they pre- 
fent tbemfelves at the hour of midnight ; and as the wolf is not 
juftly charaAcrized by faying he hth^lis the moon, which other 
beails of prey, then awake, do : and as the founds thefe animals 
make at that feafon, feem alfo intended to be reprefented ; I make 
no quellion but the poet wrote ; 

And the iji'ol/ behowls the m$6n, 
for fo the wolf is exa6lly charaaerized, it being 1 is pecaliar pro- 
perty to boxd at tbg mcon. (BibtwU as hemoaM/tifitm^ and an 
hundred others.) Warburton. 

The alteration is better than the original reading ; but perhaps 
t)ic author meant only to iay, that the vioXi gaxes at the moon. 

JOHNSOM. 

' fonJomJ] i. e. overcome. So Spenfer, F. Qj_ b. i. c. x, 
** And many fouls in dolour had fordcne. Stiivins. 

And 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHTs DREAM, 105 

^nd we Fairies, that do run 

By the triple Hecat's team, 
From the prefcnce of the fun. 

Following darknefs like a dream, 
^3bw are frolick i not a moufe 
Shall difturb this hallow'd houfe : 
I am fent, with broom, before, * 
To fwecp the duft behind the door, 

Enfer King and ^een of Fairies^ with their tnun. 

Ob. Through this houfe give glimmering light, * 

By the dead and drowfy fire : 
Every elf and fairy fprite. 

Hop as light as bird from brier ; 
And this ditty after me 
Sing, and dance it trippingly. 

7;/. Firft rehearfc this fong by rote. 
To each word a warbling note. 
Hand in hand, with fairy grace. 
Will we fing and blefs this place. 

♦ I am font mjtth broom hiforty 

To fweip t hi duft btbind tbe door.] 
Cleanlinefs is always neceflary to invite the refidence and the 
fiiTour of Fairies. 

Tbe/emaki our girls sbeir JUttt*ry rmi^ 

By fimcbiug tbem b§tb bUck and blue, 

4»dput a patny in tbiir Jhoe 

Tbe boufe for cUady ftwetfing. Drayton. 

JOHKIOK. 

^ Through this h§ufi give glimmeriug ligbe.] Milton perhaps had 
dus piAure in his thought : 

Glowfng embers through the room 

Teach Ught to counteifeit a gloom. II Penferoib. 

So Drayton : 

Hence Jhadows /eeming idle Jhapet 
0/littie frifiing el'ves andapest 
To earth do make their wanton Ycapes, 
As hope ofpaftimt haftes them. 
I think it (hould be read. 

Through this houfe in gUmmiring light. Johksok. 



io6 A MIDSUMMER.NIGHT*3 DREAM, 

Ob. Now, until the break of day, ^ 
Through this houfe each Fairy dray. 
To the beft bride- bed will we. 
Which by us fliall blciTcd be , 
And the iflue, there create. 
Ever fhall be fortunate. 
So fhall all the couples three 
Ever true in loving be : 
And the blots of nature's hand 
Shall not in their iffue {land ; ' 

Never mole, hare-lip nor fear. 
Nor mark prodigious, fuch as are 
Defpifed in nativity. 
Shall upon their children be. — 
With this field-dew conlecrate, 
Every Fairy take his gate, 
And each feveral chamber blefs. 
Through this palace, with fwect peace. 
Ever Ihall it fafcly reft. 
And the owner of it bleft. 
Trip away ; 
Make no ftay ; 
Meet me all by break of day. 

[ExeUfU King, ^en^ and trasM. 

• Nowf uftlil, &c.] This fpeech, which both the old quartos give to 
Oberon, is in the edition of 1623, and in all the fbilo wing, printed 
as the fong. I haveredored it to Oberon, as it appaiently contains 
not the bleiTing which he intends to bellow on the bed, but his decla- 
ration that he will blefs it, apd his orders to the fairies how to per- 
form the neceifary rites. But where then is the fong ?-^I am afiaii 
it is gone after many other things of greater value. The truth is 
that two fongs are loft. The feries of the fcene is this ; after the 
fpeech of Puck, Oberon enters, and calls his fairies to a fong, 
which fong is apparently wanting in all the copies. Next Tita- 
nia leads another fong, which is indeed loft like the former, tho' 
the editors have endeavoured to find it. Then Oberon difmiftes 
his fairies to the difpatch of the ceremonies. 

The fongs, I fuppofe, were loft, becaufe they were not infertcd 
in the players parts^ from which the drama was printed. 

Johnson. 

Puck. 



A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT's DREAM. 107 

Fuck. If we (hadows have offended, 

link but this, and all is mended i 

I at you have but Qumber'd here, 

hile thefe vifions did appear. 

id this weak and idle theme, 

» more yielding but;»a dream, 

ndes, do not reprehend ; 

you pardon, we will mend. 

^d as I'm an honeft Puck, 

"we have unearned luck ^ 

> vr to *fcape the ferpent's tongue, ' 

e will make amends, ere long : 

^G the Puck a liar call : 

» good night unto you all. 

v-e me your hands, if we be friends ' 

icJ Robin (hall reftore amends. [Exeunt cntues. • 

I unearned luck,'\ i.e. if we have better fortune than 
Have deferved. St b evens. 

^ Ntnv to 'fcapi tht ferpenfi tengui,] That is. If wc be dif- 
s*d without hifTes. Johnson. 

Ci've mi your bands. ^ That is. Clap your hands. Give at 
^i" applaufe. Johnson. 

or this play there are two editions in quarto; one printed 
I'homas Fiiher, the other for James Roberts, both in 1600. 
^vc ufed the copy of Roberts, very carefully collated, as it feems, 
H that of Fiihcr. Neither of the editions approach to exad- 
*« Fi(her is fometimes preferable, but Roberts was followed, 
* tigh not without fome variations, by Hemings and Condel, and 
y by all the folios that fuccecded them. 

•Vild and fantaftical as this play is, all the parts in their va- 
>s modes are well written, and give the kind of pleafure which 
author designed. Fairies in his time were much in fafhion ; 
EMnon tradition had made them familiar, and Spenfer s poen 
^ made them great. Jo h h son . 



THE 



THE 



MERCHANT 



6 r 



VENICE. 



Perfons Reprefented. ♦ 

DUKE ^/Venice. 

Prince of Morocco. 

Prince of Avxdigon. 

Anthonio, the Merchant of \tmQC. 

Baflanio, bis Friend. 

Salanio, 1 

$Qlaf ino» / Friends to Anthoctio and BalTaDio, 

Gtatiano, J 

Lorenzo, in love with Jcflica. 

hhylock, a Jew. 

Tubal, tf Jew. 

Launcelot, a Clown^ Servant to the Jew. 

Gobbo, Father to Launcelot. 

Leonardo, Servant to B^anio. 

TX^ !^-'". Portia. 
Portia, an heirefs. 
Nerifla, waiting- maid to Portia. 
Jcflica, Daughter to Sfi'ylock. 

Senators of Venice, Officers, Jailerj Servants^ and 
other Attendants. 

SCENE, partly at Venice, and partly at 
Belmont, the Seat of Portia. 

• In the old editions In quarto, for J. Roberts, 1600, and ii 
die old folio, 1623, there i» no enumeration of the perfons. 

JOHNSOM. 



THE 



MERCHANT of VENICE.' 



ACT I. SCENEL 

A Street in Venice. 

Enter Antbonto^ Solarino^ and Salanic* 

Anthonio. 

IN footh, I know not why I am fo fad : 
It wearies me ; you fay, it wearies you ; 
But how I caught it, found ir, or came by it. 
What fluff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, 

* The reader will find a diftinft epitome of the novels, 
from which the (lory of this play is fuppoled to be taken, at the 
condufion of the notes. It ihould however be remembered, that 
four poet was at^ill indebted to the Italian novelHAs, it ^ufl 
^n been through the medium of Tome old tranflation, which 
has hitherto efcaped the refearches of his moil indudrious editors. 

Itappears fromapafTage in Stephen GofTon's School of Abufe, 
^« 1579, that a play, comprehending the didindl plots of this, 
had been exhibited before Shakefpeare's, viz. " The Jew (hewn 
" at the Boll, reprefenting the greedincfTc of worldly Choofers, 
'* and the bloody Mindes of Ufurers." Thefe plays, fays Gof- 
fen» (for he mentions others with it) are goode and fweete 
pliyes, &c. 

The Jew of Malta by Marlow neither was performed nor printed 
tnifomc time after the author's death, which happened in 1593, 
nor do Iknow 6f any other play with the fame title. It is there- 
fort not improbable that Shakefpcare ncw-wrote his piece, on the' 
rtodel already mentioned, and" that the elder performance be- 
ing inferior, was permitted 10 drop filently into oblivion. 

Stibvbns. 

I am 

2 



112 THE MERCHANT 

I am to learn : 

And fuch a want-wit fadnefs makes of me^ 

That I hare much ado to know myfelf^ 

Sal. Your mind is toffing on the ocean ; 
There, where your Argofies * with portly fail, , 
Liiceiigniors and rich burghers on the flood. 
Or as it were the pageants of the fea. 
Do over-peer the petty traffickers, 
That curtfy to them, do them reverence. 
As they fly by them with their woven wings. 

Sola. Believe me, fir, had I fuch venture forth. 
The better part of my afFedtions would 
Be with my hopes abroad. I (hould be ftill 
Plucking the grafs, ' to know where fits the wind ; 
Prying ^ in maps, for ports, and piers, and roads. 
And every objed that might make me fear 
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt. 
Would make me fad. 

Sal. My wind, cooling my broth. 
Would blow me to an ague, when I thought 
What harm a wind too great might do at fea. 

* Jrgofiit^ a (hip from Argo. Pops. 

Whether it be derived from Argo I am in doubt. It was a nane 
given in our author's time to fliips of ^at bnrthen» probably gal- 
leons, fuch as the Spaniards now ufe in their Weft India trade. 

JORHSOir. 

An Argofie meant ori^nally a ihip from Raguia, a city and 
territory on the gulph of Venice, tributary to the Porte. 

Sraavaat. 

5 Plucking tht ^rsfi^ &c.] By holding up the grafs, or way 
li^ht body that will bend by a gentle blaft, the diredion of tte 
wind is found. 

This luaj I ufed in fimting. BtUmixt ibi wmrkts w«/ 4» Hm 
place ^ tbtn Itakia feibtrt^ tr a lytle grafle, and fi luarwid i^m 
tbtmnnd fiwd. Afcham. Johnson. 

^ Prying.'X Oneof the quartos reads ^//mivf. I havechofea 
the former, because it prevents the; jingle which, otherwifc, oc- 
curs in the line Srai vans. 

I(houl4 



OF VENICE. 113 

I fhouki not fee the landy hour-glals run. 

But I fliould think of fiiallows, and of flats ; 

And Ice my wealthy ^ Andrew dock*d in fand. 

Vailing her high top k>wer than her ribs ^ 

To ki^ her buriak Should I go to church. 

And fee the holy edifice of flone. 

And noc bethink me ftrait of dangerous rocks ? 

"Which^ touching but my gentle veflers fide. 

Would featter all her fpices on the ftream •, 

Bnrobc the roaring waters with my filks •» 

And, in a word, but even now worth this. 

And now worth nothing. Shall I have the thought 

To think on this^ and (hall I lack the thought. 

That fuch a thing, bechanc'd, would make me fad ? 

But, tell not me ; — I know, Anthonio 

Is fad to think upon his merchandize. 

Antb. Believe me, no : I thank my fortune for it. 
My ventures are not in one bottom trufled. 
Nor to one place;, nor is my whole eftate 
Upon the fortune of this preient year: 
Therefore, my merchandize makes me not fad. 
Sola. Why then you are in love. 
jfntb. Fie, fie! 

S$k. Not in love neither ? Then let's fay, you are fad, 
Bccaofeyou are not merry : and 'twere as eafy 
Fo(*you, to laugh, and leap, and fay, you are merry, 

' jUdr§w} The name of the ihip. Johk:»on. 
^FaiUmgbirbiib top lonver than her rihs'"] In Bullokar's Englifli 
£xpofitory, i6io» to 'uail, is thus explained: *' It mcsLm to put 
*ffth4 hai^ to Briie faiU to ^'fvi fign of /ubmijjtan,** So in Ste- 
Fheo GQffi>n's book, called Playts ccnfuted in je'veral Anions : — 
" They might have i/ai/r^and bended to the king's, idol." 

80 in Middleton's Blunt Mailer Conftable, 1602. «* Til 'uail 
" % creft to death for her dear fake." So in the Fair Maid of 
A« Weft^ 1613, by Heywood : 

■ ■ ■ ** it did me good 

•• To iee the Spanifh Car veil vail hfr tcp 

** Unto my maiden flag.*' Stievemj. 

Vol. in. I Becaufc 



114 THE MERCHANT 

Becaufe you are not fad. Now, by two-headed Jan i. 
Nature hath fram'd ftrange fellows in her tinie : 
Some that will evermore peep through their cyes^ 
. And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper; 
And others of fuch vinegar-afpeft. 
That theyMl not fhow their teeth in way of fmil^ 
Though Neftor fwear, the jeft be laughable. 

Enttr Bajfanio^ Lorenzo^ and Gratiano. 

Sal. Here comes Baflanio, your moft noble kir: 
man, 
Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare you well : 
We leave you now with better company. 

Sola. I would have (laid till I had made you mcrr" 
If worthier friends had not prevented me. 

/Intb. Your worth is very dear in my regard. 
*I take it, your own bufinefs calls on you. 
And you embrace theoccafion to depart. 

5^/. Good morrow, my good lords. 

Bajf. Good Signiors both, when (hall we laugfi 
fay, when ? 
You grow exceeding ftrange : muft it be fo } 

- ^ — h\iv^ by injLO'headcd Janus,'] Here Shakefpcare ihews h« 
knowledge in the antique. By t-wo-headed Janus is meant tbtfc 
antique bifrontine heads, which generally reprefent a young ami 
imiling face, together with an old and wrinkled one, being of 
Pan and Bacchus ; of Saturn and Apollo, &c. Thcfcarc not on* 
common in colleflions of antiques : and in the books of the anti- 
quane9, as Montfaucon, Spanheim, Sec, Warbu^tok. 

In the Merchant of Venice, we hav« an oath By two-hrsdn 
Janut; and here, fays Ur; Warburton, Shakefpearc (hews hii 
knowledge in the antique : and fo does Taylor the water-jpoet, 
who dcfcribcs Fortune, " Like a Jani/s with a double-face. 

Farmer. 

• ftep through their fyej,"] This gives us a very pidlureique 

hnage of the countenance in laughing, when the eyes appen 
halflhut. Warburton, 

9 — ihn'r te^th in way of fmile,] Becaufe fuch are apt cnongl] 
to (hew their teeth in anger. \V a r b u a ton. 

Sal. 



OF VENICE. us 

SaL Well make our leifures to attend on yourt. 

Ml. My lord Balfiuiio^ fince you have found An- 
thonioy 
VTc two will leave you i but, at dinner-time, 
I pray you have in mind, where we muft meet. 

B^. I will not fail you. [ExeutU Solar, and Sola. 

Qra. You look not well, fignior Anthonio^ 
You have too much refpeft upon the world : 
They lofe it, that do buy it with much care. 
BeUeve me, you are marvcllouQy changed. 

Mb. I hold the world but as the wond, Gratiano % 
Aftage, where every man muft play his part. 
And mine a fad one» 

Gra. Let me play the Fool : ' 
V^ith mirth and laughter, let old vrrinkles come s 
And let my liver rather heat with wine. 
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. 
Why Ihould a man, whofe blood b warm withint 
Sit like his grandfire cut in alabafter f 
Sleep when be wakes, and creep into the jaundice 
By being peevifh ? I tell thee what, Anthonio, 
(I love wee, and it is my love that fpeaks :) 
There are a fort of men, whofe vilages 
Do cream and mantle, like a ftanding pond % 
And do a wilful ftillnefs entertain, 
Widi purpofe to be dreft in an opinu>Q 
Of wiulom, gravity, profound cqnceit i 
Ai who (hould fay, lam Sir Oracle^ 
And wbenlafewy lips^ let no dag bark I 
0, my Anthonio, 1 do know of thofe. 
That therefore only are reputed wife. 
For laying nothing % who, I am veryfurc> 

^Ui m pity thi Fm/;] Allading to die common comptrifea of 
liiaaB life to a ftsge-plav. So that he defires hit may be the 
faol*t or baiboo't part, which wai a conftant charaAer in the old 
fucct: fiom whence camt the phrafe, /f/Zigr tkJM. 

WaaBvaTOir. 

li U 



116 THE MfiRCHAfJT 

If they Ihould fpcak, wduld almoft damn th6fe ckh^ 
Which, hraring them, would call thcirbroriicrs Fobls. 
I'll tell thee more of this another time : ^^ 

Butfifh riot with this melancholy bait,' ' • »#^ 

For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion/— - • • 
Come, good Lorenza: Fare ye well, a wh.ije;- - 
ril end my exhortation afterdinner.* • '^ 

Lor. Well, we will leave you then till dinner time? 
I muft be one of thefe fame dumb S^-'ik men, * ' * * 
For Gratiano never lets me fpeak.' * " ' '' 

Gra. Well, keep mecom'pany but'two years more. 
Thou (halt not kriow the found of thine own tdriguc; 

jinth. Fare well : Til grow a talker for this gear. 

Gra. Thanks, *faith i for filencc is oifly comm^n'd- 
■ ■ able ■'^; 

In a neat's tongue dry'd, and a maid not vendible. 

[^ExcuTjl Gra. and Lor en: 

jfrjtb. Is that any thing now ? ^ . ' ^' 

Bajf. Gratiano. fpeaks an infinite deal of nothing^ 
more than any man in all Venice: his reafons area^ 
tv\o grains of wheat hid in two bufiiels of chaff; *yo\l 
(hall feek all day ere you find them ;' aod'whcfi yog 
have them they are not worth the fearch. 

« t ucuU ahnofi damn the/:! ears,] Several old editions have 

it, ifam, damme, and daunt. Some more correA copies, V^mv. Th€ 
author's meaning is tbia ; That fome people are tjiought wife, 
whilil they keep filence ; who, when they open their mouths, are 
fuch flupid praters, that the hearers cannot help calling tlicip 
/ccij, and fo incur the judgment denounced in the Gofpel. 

Theobald.- 

* ril iftdmj exhor/afJpu after dinner.'] The humour of this con- 
fjflsin its being an allufion tothepruflice of the puritan preachers 
of thofe limes ; who being generally very long and tedious, were 
often forced to put cfF that part of their fermon called the exporim- 
ticn, till aftrr dinner. Warburton. 

5 // flat anv thing now ?] All the old copies rc;i(I, u that attj 
■hln^ no'nj ? I fupjrofe wc iliould read, ii that any thing new \ 

Johnson. 

Anth 



OF VENICE. 117 

AiUh. Well ; tell mc now, what lady is the fame* 
To whom you fwore a fecrct pilgrimage. 
That you to-day promised to tell meof ? 

Bajf. *Tis not unknown to you, Anthonio, 
How much I have difabled mine eftate, 
Byflicwing fomething a more fwelling port, 
Thaa my faint means would grant conxinuance : 
Nor do I now make moan to be abridged 
From fuch a ooble race : but my chief care 
Is to come fairly off front the great debts. 
Wherein my time, fomething too prodigal 
Hath left mc gag*d. To you, Anthonio, 
I owe the moft, in money, and in love \ 
And from your love I have a warranty 
Tounburthen all my plots, and purpofes. 
How to get clear of all the debts I owe. 

Mb. 1 pray you, good BafTanio, let me know it^ 
And, if it ftand, as you yourfelf dill do, 
Within the eye of honour, be affur'd, 
My purfe, my pcrfon, my extreamcft means 
Lye all unlocked to your occafions. 

Bajf. In my fchool-days, when I had loft one (haft, 
I Ihot his fellow of the felf-fame flight 
The felf-fame way, with more advifed watch. 
To find the other forth -, and by adventring both, 
I oft found both. 1 urge this child- hood proof, 
Bccaufe what follows is pure innocence. 
I owe you much •, and, like a wilful youth, * 



keaVf\i.vvhyouthJ] This does not at all agree with 
what he had before promifed, that what followed (hould be purg 
imcfnce. For rMtlfulmefs is not quite fo pure. We fliould read 
wiTLBM, L c. heedlefs ; and this agrees exa£lly to that to which 
J'c compares his cafe, of a fchool-boy ; who, for want q{ adifijed 
^^d^ loH his firit arrow, and fent another after it with more at- 
icntion. But nvil/ul agrees not at all with it. War burton. 

Dr. Warburton confounds the time paft and prefent. He has 

formerly loft his money like a ^rl/ul youth, he now borrows more 

in/»r/ innoe^nce^ without difguifmg his former fault, or his prc- 

itotdefigns. Johnson. _,, 

^ ^ I 3 That 



iiB THE MERdHANT 

That which I owe is loft : but if you pleafe 
To (hoot another arrow that fclf way 
Which you did (hoot the firft, I do not doubt, 
As I will watch the aim, or to find both. 
Or bring your latter hazard back again. 
And thankfully reft debtor for the firft. 

Jntb. You know me well •, and herein fpenc 
time. 
To wind about my love with circumftance •, 
And, out of doubt, you do me now more wron 
In making queftion of my uttermoft. 
Than if you had made wafte of all I have. 
Then do but fay to me, whsit I fhould do. 
That in your knowledge may by me done. 
And I am preft unto it : therefore, fpeak, 

Bajf, In Belmont is a lady richly left, 
And fhe is fair, and fairer than that word, 
Of wond*rous virtues ; fometime from her eyes 
I did receive fair fpeechlefs meflages : 
Her name is Portia •, nothing undervalued 
To Cato's daughter, Brutus* Portia. 
Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth ; 
For the four winds blow in from every coaft 
Renowned fuitors : and her funny locks 
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece : 
Which makes her feat of Belmont Oolchos* ftrar 
And many Jafons come in queft of her. 

my Anthonio, had I but the means 
To hold a rival place with one of them, 

1 have a mind prefages me fuch thrift. 
That I (hould queftionlefs be fortunate. 

A'^tb. Thou know'ft, that all my fortunes are a 

' — fometime? /r:OT hir ^es,"] So all the editions ; but 
tainly ought to hc^/cmetime^ i. c. fonnirly^ feme time ago^ a 
tain time : and it appears by the fubfequcnt fcene, that B 
was at Belmont with the Marquis de Montferrat, and faw 
|n herfathef*8 life tiip(^. Thbobalo, 



OF VENICE. 119 

Nor have I money, nor commodity 

To raifc a prcfent fum : therefore go forth -, 

Try what my credit can in Venice do ; 

That Ihall be rack'd even to the lUtermoft, 

To furnilh thee to Belmont, to fair Portia. 

Go, prcfently enquire, and fo will I, 

Where money is-, and I no queftion make 

To have it of my truft, or for my fake. [Exeunt. 

SCENE II. 

4 Room in Portia's Houfe at Belmont. 

Enter Portia and Nerijfa. 

Por. By my troth, Nerifla, my little body is aweary 
of this great world. 

Ner. You would be, fweet madam, if your mife- 
ries were in tbcfamc abundance as your good fortunes 
arc. And yet, for aught I fee, they are as fick, that 
furfeit with too much, as they that ftarvc with nothing: 
it is no mean happinefs therefore to be featcd in the 
rocanj fuperfluity comes fooner by white hairs, but 
competency lives longer. 
For. Good fentenccs, and well pronounc'd. 
Ner. They would be better, if well follow'd. 
Per. If to do, were as eafy as to know what were 
good to do, chapels had been churches^ and poor 
mens cottages, princes' palaces. It is a good divine, 
that follows his own inftruclions : I can eafier teach 
twenty what were good to be done, than be one of 
the twenty to follow my own teaching. The bram 
may devife laws for the blood ; but a hot temper 
leaps o*er a cold decree : fuch a hare is madnefs the 
youth, to (kip o*er the melhes of good counfel the 
cripple. But this reafoning is not in fafhion to chule 
me a hufband : O me, the word chufe ! I may nei- 
ther chufc whom I would, nor refufe whom I dif- . 

1 4 like-. 



I20 THE MERCHANT 

like i fo is the will of a living daughter curb'd by d 
ViiM of a 4ead father. Is ic not hard, Nerifla, thai 
cannot chufe one, nor refufe none ? 

Ner. Your father was ever virtuous j and holy mc 
at their death, have good infpirations : therefore* d 
lottery, that he hath devifed in thcfc three chefts ^ 
gold, filver, and lead, (whereof who chufes his mca 
ing, chufes you) will, no doubt, never be chofen I 
any rightly, but one who Ihall rightly love. But wh 
warmth is there in your afFeftion towards any of the 
princely fuitors that are already come ? 

Por. I pray thee, over-name them ; and as the 
nam'ft them, I will delcribe them ; and, accordir 
to my defcription, level at my affedliont 

Ner. Firft, There is the Neapolitan prince. 

Por. Ay, that's a colt, * indeed, for he doth n< 
thing but talk of his horfe ; and he makes it a gre: 
appropriation to his own good parts, that he can (he 
him himfelf. I am much afraid my lady, his tnt 
ther, play'd falfe with a fmith, 

Ner. Then, there is the Count Palatine. ^ 

P0 

• jfy^ ihat^s a colt, imieedy for he doth nntbtng hut talk tf b 
hdrft ;] Though all the editions agree in this reading, I can pci 
ccive neither humour, nor rcafocing in it. How does talking c 
horfes, or knowing hew to (hoe them, make a man e'er the moi 
a colt? Or, if a fytith and a lad^ o{ figur: wrrc to have an aflai 
' together, would a colt be the ifluc of their carcfles ? The wor 
word dolt^ which I have fubftituted, fignifies one of the inofl/« 
//W and hlodijh of the vulgar. Theobalp. 

Mr. Theobald f^ys, he can fercei've neither humour tier na/onin 
in this reading, and therefore alters r^// to e/olti but whateve 
humour or reafoning there is in the one, there is in the other 
for the fjgnification is the fame in both. Hen. IV. ift part, Fal 
ftafF fays, IVhat a plague mean you to colt a^ thus /'And Fletche 
conftanily ufes (oU for dh. War burton. 

Co!t is ufcd for a witlcfs, heady, gay youngflcr, whence th 
phrafe ufed of an old man too juvenile, that ht flill reuans hi 
{oh*s tcoth. See Hen. VIII. Johnsom. 

^ '^there is the Count PaUfin*,] J am always inclined to be 
licv^i that Shakefpearc has ^lore allafions to particular h&s anc 



O F T E K I C E. 121 

ftr* He 4oth nothiog but frown ; as who flxoulti 
^% dn if ytm mil not bav£ tne^ cbufe. ' He hears 
merry tales, and fmiles not : I fear ke will prove tbc 
«eq)iog pbilofopber when he grows old, being fo fuU 
of unmannerly fadneis in his youth. I bad rather 
be laarried to a death's head with a bone in his mouth, 
than to either of thefe. God defend me from thefc 
twol 

Wt. How fay you by the French Lord, Monfieur 
LeBon? 

Por. God made him, and therefore let him pafs for 
8 num. In truth, I know, it is a fin to be a mocker ; 
?ut, he ! why,. he hath a horfe better than the Neapo- 
litan's } a better bad habit of frowning than the Count 
Palatine : he is every man in no man : if a, throftle 
Cng, he falls flrait a capering ; he will fence with 
bis own fhadow : if I ihould marry him, I Ihould 
marry twenty huil^ands. If he would defpife me, I 
would forgive him ; for if he loves me to madncls, I 
(hall never requite him. 

Her. What fay you then to Faulconbridge, the 
young baron of England ? 

Por. You know, I fay nothing to him, for he un- 
dcrftands not me, nor I him : he hath neither Latin, 

ptrfons than his readers commonly fuppofe. The count here 
nientioned was, pevkaps, Albercus a Lafco, a Polilh Palatine, 
wiio vifited England in oar author's time, was eagerly carefTed, 
siul fpkndidly entertained ; but running in debt, at lad dole 
away, and endeavoured to repair his fortune by enchantment. 

Johnson. 
* He bears mt'ry tales^ and /miles not,"] From a tranfcript made 
by the late Mr. G. Vertue, of the prices paid to the aftors of tl^is 
time for performing before the king, court, &c. 1 learn, that ihc 
CountPalatine was frequently a fpc6lator of the plays of Shaken 
|pwre, who poffibly not finding him very much difpofed to enter 
into the mirth of his fcenes, might have dropped this (Iroke of 
fadreon him, after he had quitted the kingdom in the manner de^ 
i^ibed by Mr. Johpfon. But this is mere conjedure. 

Stibv^ks. 

French, 



122 THE MERCHANT 

French, nor Italian ; ' and you will come into the 
court and fwcar, that I have a poor pennyworth in 
the Englifh. He is a proper man's pifture ; but, 
alas ! who can converfe with a dumb (how ? how 
oddly he is fuited ! I think, he bought his doublet 
in Italy, his round hofe in France, his bonnet in Ger- 
many, and his behaviour every where. 

Ner. What think you of the Scottiih lord, ' his 
neighbour ? 

Por. That he hath a neighbourly charity in him; 
for he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englifliman, 
and fwore he would pay him again when he was able ; 
I think the Frenchman became his furety, * and 
feal'd under for another. 

l^er. How like you the young German, ^ the duke 
of Saxony's nephew ? 

Por. Very vilely in the morning, when he is fober; 
and mod vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk : 
when he is beft, he is a little worfe than a man ; and 
when he is word, he is little better than a beaft. 
An the word fall that ever fell, I hope, I (hall make 
ihift to go without him. 

J^er. If he fhould offer to chufe, and chufc the 

9 — — Af bath neither Lafiii, French^ nor Italian ;] A fatire on 
the Ignorance of the young Englifli travellers in our author's 
time. Warburton. 

■ Scottijh lor J,]' Scottifh, which is !n the quarto, was omit- 
ted in the firft folio, for fear of giving offence to king James's 
countrymen. Theobald. 

* / think, the Frenchman became bis furety, "l Alluding to the 
conftant afGftance, or rather conftant promifes of affiftance, that 
the French gave the Scots in their quarrels with the Englilh. This 
alliance is here humouroufly fatirized. Warburton. 

' Howj like you the yourtg German,] In Shakefpeare's time the 
duke of Bavaria vifited London, and was made knight of the 
garter. 

Perhaps in this enumeration of Portia's fuitors, there may he 
fome covert all ufion to thofe of Queen Elizabeth. Johnson. 

right 



OF VENICE- 123 

rijgfit calket, you fhould rcfufc to perform your fa- 
ther's will, if you fhould refufc to accept him. 

I^or. Therefore, for fear of the word, 1 pray thee, 
let a deep glafs of Rhenifli wine on the contrary cas- 
ket \ for, if the devil be within, and that tempta- 
tion without, I know, he will choofe it. I will do 
^ny thing, Neriffa, ere I will be marry*d to a fpunge. 

Ntr. You need not fear, lady, the having any of 
thefc lords: they have acquainted me with their de- 
terminations ; which is, indeed, to return to their 
home, and to trouble you with no more fuit, unlefs 
you may be won by fome other fort than your father's 
impofuion, depending on the cafkets, 

VoT. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as 
chaile as Diana, unlefs I be obtained by the manner 
of my father's will. I am glad this parcel of wooers 
arc fo very reafonable •, for there is not one among' 
them but I doat on his very gbfcnce, and pray God 
grant them a fair departure. 

AV. Do you not remember, lady, in your fathcr*s 
time, a Venetian, a fcholar and a foldier, that came 
hither in company of the Marquifs of Montferrat ? 

fw. Yes, yes, it was Ba0anio ; as I think, he was 
focall'd, 

^tr. True, madam. He, of all the men that ever 
roy foolilh eyes look'd upon, was the beft defcrving 
a fair lady. 

Vor. I remember him well ; and I remember him 
worthy of thy praife. How now ? what news ? 

Enter a Servant. 

Ser. The four ftrangers feek for you, madam, to 
take their leave: and there is a fore-runner come 
from a fifth, the prince of Morocco j who brings word, 
the prince, his mafter, will be here to-night. 

Per. If I could bid the fifth welcome with fo good 
Jicart as I can bid th^ other four farewcl, I ftiould be 

. glad 



124 THE MERCHANT 

fflad of bis approach : if he have the condition of iu 
uint, and the complexion of a devil, I had rather 
he ihould (hrive me, than wive me. Come, Ncrifla. 
Sirrah, go before. — While we (hut the gate upon one 
wooer, another knocks at the door. [Exeual. 

SCENE III. 

A publick Place in Venice. 
Enter Bajfanio and Siylcck. 

Shy. Three thoufand ducats : — ^wclL 

B^Jf" Ay, fir, for three months. 

Shy. For three months : — well. 

Bajf. For the which, as 1 told you, Anthonio (halt 
be bound. 

Shy. Anthonio fhall become bound : — well. 

BaJf. May you ftead me ? will you pleafure me ? 
Ihall I know your anfwer ? 

Sty. Three thoufand ducats, for three months, and 
Anthonio bound i 

BaJf. Your anfwer to that. 

Shy. Anthonio is a good man. — 

BaJf. Have you heard any imputation to the con- 
trary ? 

Shy. Ho, no, no, no, no •, — my meaning, in fay- 
ing he is a good man, is, to have you undcrftand me, 
that he is fufficient. Yet his means are in fuppofi- 
tion : he hath an Argofy bound to Tripolis, another 
to the Indies; I undcrftand moreover upon the Ri- 
alto, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for Eng- 
land ; and other ventures he hath, fquander'd abroad. 
But fliips are but boards, lailors but men : there be 
land-rats, and water-rats ; water thieves, and land- 
thieves •, I mean, pirates -, and then, there is the pe- 
ril of waters, winds and rocks. The man is, not- 

with- 



OF VENICE. 12^ 

ipvitbftanding, fufficicnt. Three thoufand ducats : 

r ci)ink, I may take his bond. 

Saff. Be aflfur'd, you may. 

Sbj. I will be alTur'd, I may ; and that I may be 
aflur'd, 
I ^^will bethink mc. May I fpeak with Anthonio ? 

^aff. If it pleafe you to dine with us. 

Sl^. Yes, to fmell pork ; to eat of the habitation^ 
wlnich your prophet the Nazarite conjured the devil 
intro : I will buy with you, fell with you, talk with 
yoi3, walk with you, and fo following •, but I will 
noc cat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. 
VV^Jiat news on the Rialto ?— Who is he comes here J 

Enter Anthonio. 

Baff. This is fignior Anthonio. 
Shy. [4/ide.] How like a fawning Publican helooks^ 
I hate him for he is a chriftian: 
But more, for that, in low fimplicity. 
He lends out money gratis^ and brings down 
The rate of ufance here with us in Venice.^ 
If 1 can catch him once upon the hip, * 
1 will feed fat the antient grudge I bear him. 
He hates our facred nation ; and he rails. 
Even there where merchants moft do congregate. 
On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, 
Which he calls interefl:. Curfcd be my tribe. 
If I forgive him ! 
Bajf. Shylock, do you hear ?— 
Sbj. I am debating of my prcfent (lore ; 
And, by the near gucfs of my memory, 
I cannot inftantly raife up the grofs 
Of full three thoufand ducats : what of that ? 
Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe, 

^ *-*c«/fA him •nciupon the hip,'] A phrafe uken from the prac- 
tice of wrcftlcrs, Johnson. 

Will 



126 THE MERCHANT 

Will furnilh mc : but foft, how many months 
Do you defire i Reft you fair, good fignior ; 

[To Anthm 
Your worfhip was the laft man in our mouths. 

Jnth. Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow 
By taking, nor by giving of exccfs. 
Yet, to fupply the ripe wants of my friend, * 
I'll break a cuftom : — Is he yet pofTeft, 
How much you would ? 

Shy. Ay, ay, three thoufand ducats^. 

jlntb. And for three months. 

Shy. I had forgot, three months, you tol<l me fa. 

Well then, your bond \ and let me fee,— ^ But: 

hear you, 
Methought, you faid, you neither lend nor borrow 
Upon advantage. 

Antb. I do never ufe it. 

Sby. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's fhcep,-** 
This Jacob from our holy Abraham was 
(As his wife mother wrought in his behalf) 
The third pofleflbr ; ay, he was the third. 

Anib. And what of him ? did he take intereft ? 

Sly. No, not take intereft ; not as you would fay, 
Direftly, intereft : mark, what Jacob did. 
"When Laban and himfelf were compromised. 
That all the canlings which were ftrcak'd and pied, 
Should fall as Jacob's hire ; the ewes, being rank, 
'In the end of autumn turned to the rams : 
And when the work of generation was 
Between thefe woolly breeders in the aft. 
The fkilful ftiepherd peel'd me certain wandsy 
And, in the doing of the deed of kind, 

* ^-/^# ript nuants of my fritnd^^ Rift nvants arc wants c§mi tt 
$bi height^ wants that can have no longer delay. Perhaps we 
might reads njt wants^ wants that come thick upon him. 

JOHNSOlf. 

He 



OF VENICE. la; 

Hcftuck them up before the fulforac cwes; 
"^^Jio^. then conceiving,, did in eaning time 
Fall party-colour'd lambs, and thofe were Jacob's. 
This was a way to thrive, and he was bleft -, 
A.nd thrift is blefling, if men ileal it not. 

^tb. This was a venture, fir, that Jacob ferv'd for; 
K thing not in his power to bring to pafs, 
Bot fway'd, and fathion'd by the hand of Heaven. 
Was this inferted to make intereft good ? 
Or. is your gold, and fdver, ewes and rams ? 

£kf. I cannot tell; I make it breed asfaft:-— 
But note me, Signior. 

Mtb. Mark you this, BafTanio ? 
The devil can cite fcripture for his purpofe. ^-— 
An evil foul, producing holy witnefs. 
Is like a villain with a fmiling cheek -, 
A goodly apple rotten at the heart. 
0, what a goodly outfide falfhood hath ? 
Sbj. Three thoufand ducat$,^-'tis a good round 
fum. 
Three months from twelve, then let me fee the rate. 

"Can citt foripturt for his furpofi . 



O, ^Mihat a goodly tf«//f^/ falftiood hath!\ 
But this is not true, that falfhood hath always a goodly outfide. 
Nor does this take in the force of the fpeaker's fentiment ; who 
wodd obferve that that falfhood which quotes fcripture for its pur* 
poTe, has a goodly outfide. We fhould therefore read, 

. 'what a good'j oulfidt^s faljbood bath I 
1- e. ^// falfhood, Shylock's. War^urton; 

I wifli any copy would give me authority to range and read die 
lines dins: 

O, lobat a godly outjule faljbood bath! 

An tvil foul producing holy luitnefs^ 

Is like a *villain tvith a fmiling cheek ; 

Or goodly apple rotten at the heart. 
Yet there is no difficulty in the prefent reading. Falfhood^ which 
•5 tfvih means honejly^ is taken here for treachery and knavery ^ does 
wt fend for faljbood in general, bat for the dilhoncfty now opc- 
nting, Johnson. 

Anth. 



I7S THE MfiRCHAlTT 

jfntb. Welly Sliylocky fkall we be beholdtD: OfOtt? 

Shy. Signior AnclioniOy many a cxme and oft 
In tbe Riaito yoo have rated me. 
About wff mofiies, and my ufaoces. 
Still have I born it with a patient flirug; 
(For fa&rance is the badge of all our tribe) 
You call me, mifbetie^r^ cut-throac dog. 
And fpit upon my Jewiih gaberdine; 
And all for ufe of that, which is mine own. 
Well, then) ic now appears, you need my help; 
Go to then ;-^you come to me, and ycMi fay, 
Sbylock^ we would have monies ;— You fay fo y^ 
You that did void your rheum upon my beards 
And ft>ot me, as you fpurn-a (Iranger cur 
Over your threfttold ; — monies is your fuit ; 
What (hould I fay to you ? ihould I not fay, 
Hatb a dog money f is U poffiUty 
j1 cur can lend three tbcufand ducats ? or 
IShatl I bend low, and in a bondman's key. 
With 'bated breath, and whifpering huosUeneis, 
Say this,-~Ftfir Sir^ycujpit an me an ff^ednefday Ufi'f 
Tou fpurn*d me fucb a day \ another time 
Tou called me dog ; and for tbefe curtefies 
ni lend you tbus mucb monies ? 

Jtttb. I am as like to call thee fo again. 
To fpit on thee again, to fpurn thee too. 
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not 
As to thy friends j (for when did friendihip take 
A breed of barren metal of his friend?)^ 
But lend ic rather to thine enemy \ 
Who, if he break, thou may'ft with better face 
Exaft the penalty. 

^ J breed r/ barren m:tal of bis frini ?^ A hrtfi^ that is Ja- 
tcreft money bred from the principal. By the epithet hamn^ th€ 
iMichor would indrucltis in the argument on which the advocate* 
j^aioft uAiry went, which is this, that money is a harrem thing* 
and cannot like com and cattle multiply itfelf. And to iet dT 
the abfurdity of this kind of ufury, he put breed and beurnm ia 
•ppoiitiosu Warbvi^toh. 



O F V E N I C E. 129 

%. Why, look you, how you ftorm ? 
t would be friends with you, and have your love ; 
Foi]get'tJbue fhames that you have (tain'd me with : 
Supply your prefent wants, and take no doic 
Of ufance for my monies, and you'll not hear me j 
This is kind I offer. 

jfntb. This were kindnefs. 
Shy. This kindnefs will Ilhow :— 
Oo with me to a notary, fcal me there 
Your fingle bond •, and, in a merry fport. 
If you repay me not on fuch a day, 
lofucha place, fuch fum, or fums, as are 
dvprtls'd in the condition, let the forfeit 
He nominated for an equal pound 
Of your fair flefh, to be cut off and taken 
In what part of your body plcafeth me. 

AKtb. Content, in faith. Til feal to fuch a bond^ 
And (ay, there is much kindnefs in the Jew. 

Baff. You (hall not feal to fuch a bond for me, 
lit rather • dwell in my neceflity. 

Amb. Why, fear not, man; 1 will not forfeit it j 
\7ithin thefe two months (that's a month before 
Th» bond expires) I do expedt return 
Of thrice three times the value of this bond* 

%• O father Abraham, what thefe Chriftians are ! 
Whofe own hard dealings teaches them fufpeft 
The thoughts of others ! pray you, tell me this ; 
If he ihould break his day, what fhould I gain 
By the exaction of the forfeiture ? 
A pound of man's flelh, taken from a man, 
ii not (o eftimable, profitable neither. 
As flefh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I fay, 
' To buy his favour I extend this fricndfhip i 



* ' d w t ff fn my mctfity."] To d^oill feems in this place to mean 
«c kmt as to coHihui. To aiide has both the fenfcs of ifuSi/a- 
^ and c§MiimuMnce, Johnson • 

Vol. III. K If 



I30 THE MERCHANT 

If he will take it, fo \ if not, adieu ; 

And, for my love, I pray you wrong mc not* 

Jnib. Yes, Shy lock, I will feal unto this boncK. 

Sly. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's ; 
Give him direftion for this merry bond. 
And I will go and purfe the ducats ftrait ; 
See to my houfe, left in the fearful guard ' 
Of an unthrifty knave •, and prefcntly 
I will be with you. [£Mfc 

yinib. Hie thet, gentle Jew. 
This Hebrew will turn Chriftian ; he grows kind. 

Bajf. I like not fair terms, ' and a villain's mind. 

yintb. Come on ; in this there can be no difinay : 
My {hips come home a month before the day. 



9 Itft im the FtAKTVL guards &c] But ht€ij fimfm 

was the mod trufly guard for a hoafe-keeper in a popoloos dtj j 
where hoafes are not carried by ftorm like fortrefles. For ftm 
would keep them on their watch, which was all that was neoeT 
fary for the owner's fecurity. I fuppofe therefore ShakeipeaK 
wrote, 

pEAELBss guard. 

i. e. carelefs ; and this, indeed, would expofe his houfe to db( 
only danger he had to apprehend in the day-tijne, which wu 
claodeiline pilfering. This reading is much confirmed by ck 
charader he gives this guard, of an unthrifty knave, aad by whai 
he fays of him afterwards, that he was, 

a hugefeedtr : 

Snail-Jlcw in profit^ hut he deeps by day 
More than the wild cat Warburtow. 

Dr. Warburton has forgotten that/rof/W is not only that whid 
fears, but that which is firared or canfes fear. Fearful guar^, ii 
a guard that is not to be trufted, but gives caufe of fear. Tc 
fear was anciently to giw as well as feel ierroun. JOHiisoil»' 
So in Hen. TV. P. I. 

'* A mighty and a fearful head they arc." SriEVEiCf. 
' / li^e tt9t fair ttrmt,^ Kind words, good language. 

JoHifsor* 



A C 1 



OF VENICE. 



131 



ACT IL SCENE I, 

Mnier the Prince cf Morocco^ and three or four FellM'^ 
ers accordingly j ^tb Portia^ Nerijfa^ and ber train* 
Flourijb Cornits. 

Morocco. 

MISLIKE me not for my complexion. 
The fhadow'd livery of the burniih*d fun^ 
To whom I am a neighbour, and near bred. 
Bring me the faireft creature northward born, 
Where Phoebus' fire fcarce thaws the ificlcs. 
And let us make incifion for your love. 
To prove whofe blood is reddeft^ his or mine. * 
I tell thee, lady, this afped of mine 
Hath fear'd the valiant; * by my love, I fweat 

* T%pr9^ nnhtfM bUoi is rtditjt^ his or miui^X To underfUnd 
W the taWliey prince, whofe iavage dignity is vtvj well fup^ 
ported, means to recommend hirorelf by this challenge, it mull 
beiememb^red that rti blood is a traditionary fign of courage: 
Thas Macbeth calls one of his frighted foldiers, a Ullf Umer^d 
I^Mvn ; a^n in this play. Cowards are faid to hafuM li'vtrs as 
tuhitt as milki and an effeminate and timorous man is termed a 
mlkfip. Johnson. 

' Haib fear'd ibi 'uaUani ;] i. e. tmiffd. To fear is often 
>ied by our old writers, in this fenfe. bo 6. Jonfon, in Every 
Man in his Humour : *« Make him a warranty (he (hall not go) 
•*Ibut/#tfrtheknave.^* 

' 80 again in Hen. VL 3d Part : _ 

" Thott fecft what's paft, go fear thy king withal." 
So ag:un in the fiune play ; 

« For Warwick was a bug that ftm^d us all.'* 
And again in Hen. IV. Part II. 
" The people //«r me, for they do obferve 
"Unfether'dheirf, &c. StiBViws. 

K 2 The 



132 THE MERCHANT 

The beft regarded virgins of our clime 

Have lovM it too. 1 would not change this hu 

Except to fteal your thoughts, my gentlfc queen, 

Por. In terms of choice I am not folely led 
By nice diredlion of a maiden's eyes : 
Befides, the lottery of my deftiny 
Bars me the right of voluntary chufing. 
But, if my father had not fcanted me, 
^ And hedg*d me by his will to yield myfelf 
His wife, who wins me by that means 1 told you 
Yourfclf, renowned prince, then ftood as fair^ 
As any comer I have look'd on yet. 
For my afFedion. 

Mor. Even for that I thank you ; 
Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the cafkets^ 
To try my fortune. By this fcimitar. 
That flew the Sophy, ^ and a Perfian prince. 
That won three fields of Sultan Solyman, 
I would out-(tare the (lerneft eyes that look. 
Out brave the heart mofl daring on the earth, 
Pluck the young fucking cubs from the (he-bear 
Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey. 
To win thee, lady. But, alas the while I 
If Hercules and Lichas play at dice 
Which is the better man, the greater throw 
May turn by fortune from the weaker hand : 
So is Alcides beaten by his page *, ^ 

i 

♦ Jitd htJg^d mt hy bis *wtt — ] I fuppofc wc may fafely j 
atd hedged me hy his will. Confined me by his will. John^< 

' That Jkwtbt Supby^ &c.] Shakefpeare feldom dcapes 
when he is entangled with g:eography. The prince of Moi 
mull have travelled far to kill the Sophy of Perfia. Jobmso 

^ So it Jfc'des beaten by bis ragt."] Though the whole fet of 
tions concur in this reading, it is corrupt at bottom. Let os 
into the poet's drifts and die hiftory of the perfons mentione 
the context. If Hercules, (fays he) and Lichas were to pli 
dice for the decifion of their fuperiority, Lichas, the weaker j 
mifihthavethebettc£.caftof the two« Bat how then is Ah 

bi 



O F V E N I C E. 133 

And fo may I, blind fortune leading me, 
Mifs that, which one unworthier may attain ; 
And die with grieving. 

Por. You muft take your chance : 
And either not attempt to chufe at all, 
Or fwcar, before you chufe, if you chufe -wrong. 
Never to fpeak to lady afterward 
In way of marriage. Therefore be advis'd. ^ 

M9r. Nor will not. Come, bring me unto my 
chance. 

Por. Firft, forward to the temple : — After dinner 
Your hazard fliall be made. 

Mor. Good fortune then, [Cornets. 

To make mt bleft, or curfcd*ft among men. 

[^Exeunt. 
SCENE 11. 

Changes to Venice. 

Enter Launcelot * alone. 

Laun. Certainly, my confcicnce will fcrve me to 
run from this Jew my matter. The fiend is at mine 
elbow ; and tempts me, faying to me, Gohbo^ Launce- 
kt Gobboy good Launcelot^ or good Gobbo^ or good Laun • 
ttht Gobbo^ ufe your legSj take the Jiart^ run away. 

licaten by his rajre? The poet means no more, than, if Lichas 
W the better throw, fo might Hercules himfelf be beaten by 
l^has. And who was he, but a poor unfortunate fervant of 
^trcales, that unknowingly brought his mailer the envenomed 
^irt, dipt in the blood of the Centaur NefTus, and was thrown 
Itca^ong into the fea for his pains ? This one circumHance of Li- 
ckas't quality known, fafficiently afcertains the emendation, I 
bve fubltituted page i n (lead of rage, Theobald. 

' Therefore be ad'vis*d,'[ Therefore be not precipitant; confider 
*«ll what wc arc co do. Ad'visU is the word oppofite to rajh, 

JoHhSOK. 

• The old copies read — Enter the Clown atone ; and throughout 
^ play he is called fo at moil of hi s entrances or exits. Steevens. 

K 3 My 



134 THE MERCHANT 

My confciencc fays, no •, take beedy btmeft LaunceUt ^ 
fake heedy honefi Gobbo \ or^ as aforefaid, bonefi haunce'^ 
lot Gobbo \ do not run -, fcorn running with thy heels. 
Well, the moft courageous fiend bids me pack ; vial 
fays the fiend •, aweyl fays the fiend -, fcrtbe heavens^ 
Toufi up a brave niindj fays the fiend, and run. Weil, 
my confcience, hanging about the neck of my heart, 
fays very wifely to me, my honefi friend LaunceUt^ be* 
ing an honefi man's fon^ or rather an honeft wonum*s 
fon — . — (for, indeed, my father did fomething fmack, 
ibmething grow to : he had a kind of tafte,)— — » 
wpll, my conference fays, Launcelot^ budge not \ btfJ^e^ 
fays the fiend ; budge notj fays my confcience : con- 
fcicnce, fay I, you counfel well ; fiend, fay I, you 
counfel well. To be rul'd by my confcience, I fhould 
(lay with the Jew my mafter, who, God blcft the 
mark, is a kind of devil ; and, to run away frotq 
the Jew, I (hould be ruPd by the fiend, who, fay- 
ing your reverence, is the devil himfelf. Certainly, 
the Jew }s the very devil incarnation ; and, in my 
confcience, my confciencc is but a kind of hard coa- 
fcience, to offer to counfel me to ftay with the Jew. 
The fiend gives the more friendly counfel j I will 
run, fiend •, my heels are at your commapdment, I 
Tffi\\ run. 

Efiter old Gobboj with a bajket. 

Gob. Mafter, young man ; you, I pray you, which. 
)S the way to mafter Jew's ? 

Laun. [a^de.'] O Heavens, this is my true-begot- 
Xen father, who being more than fand-blind, high- 
gravel blind, knows me not. — I will try conclufions' 
^ith hiq. 

• To try comhJtomA -— ^So the old quarto. The firft folio, by 
a mere blunder, reads, try confujions, which, becaufc it makes* 
f wd (^i paltry jeil, has been copied by all the editors, 

loHNSOM. 



O F V E N I C E. I3J 

Cok Maftcr young gentleman, I pray you, which 
is the way to maftcr Jew's ? 

Laun. ' Turn up, on your right-hand at the next 
turning, ^but at the next turning of all on your left; 
marry, at the very next turning turn of no hand, but 
turn down indireAly unto the Jew's houfe. 

Get. By God's fonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit. 
Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells 
withnim, dwell with him, or no P 

Laim. Talk you of young mafter Launcelot? (mark 
me now, [qfideJ^ now will I raife the waters Talk 
you of young mafter Launcelot ? 

Gob. No mafter, fir, but a poor man's fon. His 
father, though I fay't, is an honeft exceeding poor 
man, and, God be thanked, well to live. 

Laun. Well, let his father be what he will, we 
talk of young mafter Launcelot. 
Gab. Your worfliip*s friend, and Launcelot, fir, 
LmiL But I pray you ergo^ old man : ergo \ I be- 
fcech you ; talk you of young mafter Launcelot ? 
Gob. Of Launcelot, an't plcafe your mafterfliip. 
Lmn. ErgOy mafter Launcelot ; talk not of mafter 
Launcelot, father ; for the young gentleman (accord- 
ing to fates and deftinies, and fuch odd fayings, the 
lifters three, and fuch branches of learning) is, in- 
deed, decealcd ; or, as you would fay, in plain terms, 
gone to heaven. 

Gob. Marry, God forbid ! the boy was the very 
ftafF of my age, my very prop. 

Laun. Do I look like a cudgel, or a hoveUpoft, a 
ftaff or a prop? Do you know me, father? 

• Tint «/, OH your ri^bt-hand^ &c.] This arch and perplexed 
direftioa, to puzzle the enquJrer, feems to imitate that of Syrus 
to Deaca in the Brothers of Terence : 



ubi eat pnrferiensy 
Ad (iniftram bac rc6ta plated : ubi ad Diana 'veneris ^ 
If Aj/dextram: prius quam ad p^.riam ^jmias, &c. 

Wardurtok. 

K 4 Cob. 



136 THE MERCHANT 

Got. Alack the day, I kno^ you not, young 
tleman : but, I pray you, tell me, is my boy, (( 
reft his foul) alive or dead ? 

Laun. Do you not know me, father ? 

Gclf. Alack, fir, 1 am fand- blind, I know you not 

Laun. Nay, indeed, if you had your ryes, you 
might fail of the knowing me : it is a wife father, 
that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will trU 
you news of your fon. Give me your bleffing. Truth 
will come to light. Murder cannot be hid long ^ a 
man's fon may j but in the end, truth will out. 

Gob. Pray you, fir, ftand up. I am furc, yoo are 
not Launcelot my boy. 

Laun. Pray you, let's have no more fooling jibout 
3t, but give me your bleffing ; I am Launcelot, your 
boy that was, your fon that is, your child that ihall 
be'. 

Gol^. I cannot think you are my fon. 

L^un. I know not, what I (hall think of that : 
but I am Launcelot the Jew's man ; and, J am furc^ 
Margery your wife, is my mother. 

Got. Her name is Margery, indeed: — Pll be fworn, 
if thou be Launcelot, thou art my own flelh and 
blood. Lord worlhipp'd might he be ! what a beard 
haft thou got ! thou haft got more hair on thy chin, 
than Dobbin my thill-horfe has on his tail. 

Laun. It fliould fcem then, that Dobbin's tail 
grows backward ; I am furc he had more hair on his 
tail, than I have on my face, when I laft faw him. 

Gol^. Lord, how thou art chang'd ! How doft thou 

» Tcur cbiU that Jhall ie.] The diftinaion between S§f and 
/on is obvious, but ciiU fecms to have foine meaning, whkh it 
now loft. Johnson. 

Launcelot, hy your child (hat fiall bf^ may mean, that his duty 
to his father ihall, for the future, ihew him to be his child. It 
became neceffary for him to fay fomething of that fort, after all 
fhp Picks hp fead been playing him. Steevpj^s. 

9nd 



O F V E N I C E. 13; 

gtfid thy mdfter agree ? I have brought him H pre* 
fcnt ; how agree you now ? 

I^M^ Wetl, well V but for mine own part, as I 

have fet up my reft to run away, fo I will not reft 

'dH I have run fome ground. My matter's a very 

Jew. Give him a prefent I give him a halter ^ I 

am fymUh^d in his fervice. You may tell every finger 

I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are 

come^ pre me your prefent to one mafter Baflfanio, 

^ho, indeed, gives rare new liveries j if I ferve him 

not, I will run as far as God has any ground. O 

rare fortune ! here comes the man ; to him, father % 

^for I am a Jew, if I ferve the Jew any longer. 

Esier BMjfamo^ with Leonardo^ and a follower or two 
fHorcm 

Baff. You may do fo. — But let it be fo hafted, that 
fapper be ready at the fartheft by five of the clock. 
Sec thefc letters delivered 5 put the liveries to mak- 
ing; and defire Gratiano to come anon to my lodg'mg. 

l/iun. To him, father. 

Gob. God blefs your worfliip ! 

BaJ. Gramercy ; would'ft thou aught with me ? 

Gob. Here's my fon, fir, a poor boy, ■ 

Uiun. Not a poor boy, fir, but the rich Jew's man 5 
that would, fir, as my father (hall fpccify,— — 

Gob. He hath a great infeftion, fir, as one would 
%, to ferve.—— 

Laun. Indeed, the fliort and the long is, I fervo 
the Jew, and have a defire, as my father (hall fp^^ 

Cify, 

Gob. His mafter and he, (faving your wor(hip's re* 
vtrence) are fcarce ca\er-coufins. 

tjttiH. To be brief, the very truth is, that the 
Jew, having done me wrong, doth caufe me, as my 
tather, being I hope an old man, (hall frutify unto 

Gol^ 



138 THE MERCHANT 

Gob. Ihave here a di(h of doves, that I would be- 
ftow upon your worfhip-, and my fuit is 

LauH. In very brief, the fuit is impertinent to my 
felf, as your worQiip (hall know by this honed old 
man % and, though I fay it, though old man» yec 
poor man my father. 

Bajf. One fpeak for both. What would yoy ? 

Laun. Serve you, fir. 

Ccb. This is the very defcft of the matter, fir. 

Bajf. I know thee well. Thou haft obtained thy fuit; 
Shylock, thy mafter, fpoke with me this day. 
And hath preferred thee -, if it be preferment 
To leave a rich Jew*s fervice to become 
The follower of fo poor a gentleman. 

Laun. The old proverb is very well parted between 
my mafter Shylock and you, fir ; you have the grace 
of God, fir, and he hath enough. 

Bajf. Thou fpeak'ft it well. Go, father with thy 
fon: 
Take leave of thy old mafter, and enquire 
My lodging out. — Give him a livery, 

[To his followers. 
More guarded * than his fellows : fee it done, 

Laun. Father, in. I cannot get a fervice, no;— 

I.bave ne*er a tongue in my head. ^ Well, [looking 

on bis palm] if any man in Italy have a fairer table, 

which 

* —jwffr/ guarded.] i.e. more ornamented. Stbevens. 

^ Wtllt if any man in Italy haiJt a fairer table, 'which hth tffer 
ta fnuear upon a boek.'l The pofition of the words makes thejen- 
tencc fomewhat obfcure: Their natural order Ihould be this : 
IVtli^ if any man in Italy ^ nubicb doth offer to Jkvear upon a bookf 
have a fairer table ^ I Jhall ha^ve good luck. And the humour of 
the parage feems this ; Launcelot, a joker, and defignedly a 
blunderer, fays the reverfe of what he (hould do: which is. 
That if no man in Italy^ tubo nvould offer to take hit oath upon it, 
hath a fairer table than be, be Jhall have gorj fortune. The ban- 
ter may, partly, be on chiromancy in general : but it is very 
much in cbara^r for Launcelot, who is a hungry fcrving-man, 

to 



O F V E N I C E. 139 

fifhich doth offer to fwear upon a book, I (hall have 
good fortune. — Go to, here's a fimple line of Hfe ! 
Here's a fm^ll tfifle of wives : alas, fifteen wives is 
nothing ; eleven widows and nine maids is a fimple 
coming-ill for one man* And then, to 'fcape drown* 
ing thrice, and to be in peril of my life with the edge 
of a feather-bed/ — ^Here are fimple 'fcapes! Well, 

ts conlider his uble before his line of life, or any other points 
offbrtune. Theobald. 

fmrtr Taile.'^ The chiromantic term for the lines of the hand. 
$ofien Jonfon m his Maikof gipfies to the lady Elizabeth if atton : 

Miftrtfs of a fairer table, 
HiUh not hifiory wrfabU. 

Which doth offtr t§ fwtar upon a ho§i^ &c.] This nonfenfe 
feemfto have taken its rife from the accident of a loil line in 
tnmfcribing the play for the prefs ; fo that the paiTage, for the 
/ntore, ihoald be printed thus,— -XTr//, if any man in Italj, havi 
•furertahle^ 'which doth •••••• offer to fnntar vfon a hock J Jball 

Bcm gooJ fortune, ^It is impoflible to find, again, the lofl line: 

but the loft fenfe is eafy enough 'f^^y »»«» '» I^oly have a 

/•irtr talU, ivhich dcth [promife luck, i am miftaken. I dnrft 
ahnoft] ojh' to fwear upon a book, I (hall have good fortune. 

Warburton, 

Mr. Theobald's note is as obfcure as the paflage. It may be 
itad more than once before the complication of ignorance can be 
completely difentangled. Table is the palm expanded. What 
Mr. Theobald conceives it to be cannot eafily be difcovered, but 
^ thinks It fomewhat that promifes a full belly. 

Dr. Warburton underftood the word, but puzzles himfelfwith 
^fttSLt fuccefs in the purfuit of the meaning. The whole mat* 
^11 this: Launcelot congratulates himfclf upon his dexterity 
*f<igood fortune, and, in the height of bis rapture, infpefls 
^ wd, and congratulates himfelf upon the felicities in his 
^Ue. The adl of expounding his hand puts him in mind of 
' ^kidionin which the palm is fhewn, by railing it to lay it on 
die book, in judicial atteftations. JT///, fays he, if any man in 
W have a fairer table ^ that doth offer to fwear upon a book ■ 
Hire he ftops with an abruptnefs very common, and proceeds 
^Rttdcnlars. Johnson. 

* In peril of my life nvith the edge of a feat her- bed,'] A cant 
pbafe to fignify the danger of marrying.— —A certain French 
^tcr oies the fame kind of figure, O mon Jmi^ faimerois mieux 
il^ tmhee fur la pointt d*un Oretller, W ai* etre rompu le Coit, — 

Warburton. 

I if 



140 THE MERCHANT 

if fortune be t woman, (he's a good wench for this 
gcer. Father, come ; Til take my leave of the Jew 
in the twinkling of an eye. 

[Exeunt Lam. and C$i, 

Bajf. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this : 
Thcfe things being bought and orderly beftow'd, 
Return in hafte, for I do feaft to-night 
My beft-efteem*d acquaintance : hie thee, go. 

Lean. My belt endeavours (hall be done herein. 

Enter Gratiano. 

Gra. Where is your matter ? 

Leon. Yonder, fir, he walks. [Exit Leonardo. 

Gra. Signior BafTanio, 

Baf. Gratiano! 

Gra. I have a fuit to you. 

BaJf. You have obtainM it. 

Gra. You muft not deny me, I muft go with you 
to Belmont. 

BaJ/. Why, then you muft :— But hear thee, Gri- 
tiano, 
Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice;— 
Parts, that become thee happily enough. 
And in fuch eyes as ours appear not faults ; 
But where thou art not known, why, there they (hew 
Something too liberal ; * pray thee, take pain 
To allay with fome cold drops of modefty 
Thy (kipping fpirit; left, through thy wild behaviour, 
I be mifconftru'd in the place 1 go to. 
And lofe my hopes. 

Gra. Signior Baflanio, hear me: 
If I do not put on a fober habit. 
Talk with refpcft, and fwear but now and then ; 
Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely } 

5 Something too liberal.] Liberal I have already (hewn to b^ 
zneaxi) grofs, coarfe, licentious. Johnson. 



O F V E N I C E. 141 

Nay more, while grace is faying, hood mine eyes 
Xhnswich my hat^ and figh, and fay. Amen ; 
Ufc all ihc obfcrvancc of civility, 
X^ike one w<^ll ftudied in a fad oftcnt ^ 
Topkafe his grandam, never truft me more, 
haff. Well, we fhall fee your bearing. 
Gra. Nay, but I bar to-night ; you fhalJ not gage 
me 
By what we do to-night. 

Baff. No, that were pity : 
I would entreat you rather to put on 
Your boldeft fuit of mirth, for we have friends 
That purpofe merriment : But fare you well, 
I have fonae bufinefs. 

Cra. And I muft to Lorenzo, and the reft : 
But wc will vific you at fupper-time. [Ei^nt. 

SCENE III. 

Changes to Sbylock^s boufe. 

Enter Jeffica and Launcelot. 

Jef. I am forry thou wilt leave my father fo ; 
Cur houfe is hell, and thou, a merry devil, 
Didft rob it of fomc tsfte of tedioufnefs : 
Jut fut, thee well -, there is a ducat for thee. 
-And, Launcelot, foon at fuppcr (halt thou fee 
li^azQ, who is thy new mafter's gueft: 
Cive him this letter -, do it fecrctly. 
And io farewel : I would not have my father 
Sec me talk with thee. 

J-Aun. Adieu! — Tears exhibit my tongue, [a/ide. 
Moftbeautiful Pagan, — moft fwcet Jew ! if a Chrif- 
titndid not play the knave and get thee, I am much 

• * .fad o/fs9f,] Grave appearance ; fhew of ftaid and fc- 

JWtti behaviour. J h n son . 

deceived* 



142 THE MERC H AN t 

deceived. But, adieu ! thcfc foolifli drops do fon 
what drown my manly fpirit : adieu ! [Em 

Jef. Farcwel, good Launcclot.— 
Alack, what heinous fin is it in mc. 
To be afham'd to be my father's child ! 
But though I am a daughter to his blood, • 

I am. not to his manners. O Lorenzo, 
If thou keep promife, I fhall end this ftrifc ; 
Become a chriftian, and thy loving wife, \E^ 

S C E N E IV. 

THE STREET. 

Enter Gratianoj Lorenzo^ SolarinOj and Salanio^ 

Lcr. Nay, we will (link away in fupper-time^ 
Difguife us at my lodging, and return 
All in an hour. 

Gra. We have not made good preparation. 

SaL We have not fpoke us yet of torch-bearers 

Sola. 'Tis vile, unlcfs it may be quaintly orderec 
And better, in my mind, rot undertook. 

Lor. *Tis now but four a-dock 5 we have two houj 
(To furnifh us. 

Enter Launcelot, with a letter. 

Friend Launcelot, what's the news ? 

Laun. An* it fhall pleafc you to break up this, 
(hall feem to fignify. 

Lcr. I know the hand : in faith, 'tis a fair hand 5 
And whiter than, the paper it writ on. 
Is the fair hand that writ. 

^ — — /^rj&.fctfr/r/.] Sec the note in Rom. 8c JhI. aA I. ic« 
Wc have not /poke as yet ^ &c. i. c. tut ba^ui not yit hi/poke mj, & 
Thuk the old copies. Mr; Pope reads—" fpoke ms yet.'* — 

Stbivski 

Gr 



O F V E N I C E- 145 

ng on Black-Monday laft, at fix o'clock i* the 
norning, falling out that year on Afli-Wcdncfday 
^as four year in the afternoon. 

%. What! arc there mafques ? Hear you me; 
. Jeffica, 
^.ock lip my doors-, and when you hear the drum, 
^d the vile fqueaking * of the wry-neck'd fife, 
I^latnber not you up to the cafements then, 
^orthruft your head into the publick ftreet. 
To gaze on Chriftian fools with varnifli'd faces : 
$ut ftop my houfe's ears, I mean, my cafement^ 
l-.ct not the found of (hallow foppery enter 
Wly fobcr houfe. — By Jacob's ttaff, I fwear, 
'• nave no mind of feafting forth to night : 
3ut I will go. — Go you before me, firrah s 
Say, I will come. 

Laun. I will go before, (ir : 
Vliftrcfs, look out at window, for all this ; 
There will come a Chriftian by, 
Will be worth a Jewefs' eye. [Exit Laun. 

Sfy. What fays that fool of Hagar's oflfspring, ha? 

Jef. His words were, Farewcl, miftrefs ; nothing 
elfe. 

%. The patch is kind enough ; but a huge feeder; 
Snail-flow in profit ; but he fleeps by day 
More than the wild cat ; drones hive not with me ; 
Therefore I part with him ; and part with him 
To one, that I would have him help to wafte 
His borrowed purfe. — Well, Jeflica, go in ; 
Perhaps, I will return immediately ; 

t)oj as I bid you : 

Shut the doors after you; fajl bind^ faft find\ 

-A proverb never ftalc in thrifty mind. [Exit. 

Jif. Fafewel ; and if my fortune be not croft, 
I have a father, you a daughter, loft. 

' '^iht n/iU fqueaking. j The folio and one of the quartos read 
SfuaUng. St BE YENS. 

Vol. III. L SCENE 



146 THE MERCHANT 

S C E N E VI. 

THE STREET. 

Enter Cratiauo and Sdanio in mafquara^i, ' 

Gra. This is the pcnt-houfe, under which Loreii 
Defired us to make a (land. 

Sal. His hour is almoft paft. 

Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour. 
For lovers ever run before the clock. 

Sal. O, ten times fafter Venus' pigeon^ fly' 
To feal love's bonds new made, than they are won'' 
To keep obliged faith unforfeited ! 

Gra. That ever holds. Who rifeth from a fcaft- 
With that keen appetite that he fits down ? 
, Where is the horfe that doth untread again 

' O, ten times fafter Fenus* pigeons fly.] This is a very oc 
image, of Venus's pigeons flying to feal the bonds of love. Tl 
fenfe is obvious, and we know the dignity due to Venos's pigeon 
There was certainly a joke intended here, which the ignorance • 
boldnefs of the firft tranfcribers has murdered : 1 doubt not b 
Shakeipeare wrote the line thus : 

O, ten times fafter Ventu* widgeons fly 
To fial, &c. 
For tviJge^n fignified metaphorically, a ftlly ftlloto^ as geojh 
fuJgeon, does now. The calling love's votaries, Venm^s wi^T** 
IS in high humour. Butler ufes the fame joke in (peaking of d 
Preibyterians ; 

Tb^ apofths of this fltrce religion^ 
Like Maltemet*!, nuere afs and widgeon. 
Mahomet's afs or rather mule was famous : and the monks 
their fabulous accounts of him faid, he taught a pigeon to pb 
peas out of his ears to carry on the ends of this impoApr. 

WaaBURTOir 

I believe the poet wrote as the editors have printed. How ic 

fo very high humour to call lovers tvidgeons rather than pigewm 

cannot find. Lovers have in poetry been alway called TvnA 

or Do'Veti which in lower language may be pigeona. JoHirsoic 

H 



OF VENICE. 147 

His tedious nieafures with the unbated fire, 
That he did pace them firft ? all things that are, 
Arc with more fpirit chafed than enjoy'd. 
How like a younker, * or a prodigal, 
The (karfed bark puts from her naked bay, 
Hugg'd and embraced by the ftrumpct wind ! 
How like the prodigal doth fhe return. 
With over-weathcr'd ribs, and ragged fails. 
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the ftrumpet wind ! 

Enter Lorenzo. 

Sal. Here comes Lorenzo.— More of this hereafter. 

Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long 
abode : 
Not I, but my affairs, have mzdt you wait : 
When you (hall pleafc to play the thieves for wives, 
1*11 watch as long for you then •, approach ; 
Here dwells my father Jew. Ho ! who's within ? 

yej/ica above in bofs cloatbs. 
Jef. Who are you ? tell me, for more certainty^ 
Albeit rU fwear that I do know your tongue. 
Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love. 
Jef. Lorenzo, certain ; and my love, indeed j 
F'or whom love I fo much ? and now who knows. 
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours ? 

Lnr. Heaven and thy thoughts arc witncfs, that 

thou art. 
Jef. Here, catch this calket, it is worth the pain«. 
I am glad, 'tis night, you do not look on me. 
For I am much aftum'd of my exchange : 
Byt love is blind, and lovers cannot fee 
The pretty follies that themfelves commit \ 
For if they could, Cupid himfelf would bluQi 
To fee mc thus transformed to a boy. 

* "t^ jMtfffiiif .] AH the old copies read a younger . 

Stievens. 

L 2 Lor^^ 



148 THE MERCHANT • 

lor. Defcend, for you muft be my torch-bcarerv 

Jef. What, muft I hold a candle to my (hamcs? 
They in thcmfelves, goodfooth, are too, too light- 
Why, *tis an office of difcoveryi love. 
And I Ihould be obfcur*d, 

hor. So arc you, fweet. 
Even in the lovely garnijh of a boy. 
But come at once -, 

p'or the clofe night doth play the run- away, 
And we are ft aid for at Baffanio's feaft. 

7</^ I will make faft the doors, and gild myfelf^ 
With fome more ducats, and be with you ftraic. 

\E»it from abox^d. 

Gra. Now by my hood, a Gentile, ^ and no Jew. 

Lor* Bcflirew me, but I love her heartily : 
For ftie is wife, if I can judge of her ; 
And fair ftie is, if that mine eyes be true 5 
And true flic is, as flic hath proved herfclf ; 
And therefore like herfelf, wife, fair, and true. 
Shall flie be placed in my conftant foul. 

Enttr Jejjica below. 

What, art thou come ? — On, gentlemen, away ^ 
Our mafquing mates by this time for us ftay. [Ex0^* 

Enter Antbonio. 

Antb. Who's there ? 

Gra. Signior Anthonio ? 

Antb. Fie, Gratiano ! where are all the reft ? 
•Tis nine o'clock, our friends all ftay for you:— 

No mafque to night •, the wind is come about, 

BafTanio prefently will go aboard : 
I have fent twenty out to feek for you. 

^ ^ a Gent iky and no yenuJ] A jeft rifing from the aJU' 

biguity of GentiUy which fignifics both a HeatJbnti and wir^**^ 
hrfj, Johnson. 

Gra. 



O F V E N I C E. 149 

Cra. I am glad on'c -, I defire no more delight 
Than to be under fail, and gone to-night. [Exeunt. 

SCENE VII. 

B ELMONT. 

Enter Portia with the Prince cf Morocco and both their 

trains. 

Por. Go, draw afide the curtains, and difcovcr 
The feveral cafkcts to this noble prince. 
Now make your choice. [Three cajkets are dif covered. 
Mor. The firft of gold, which this infcripcion bears; 
fi^o cbufeth Tfiejball gain what marry men defire. 
The fecond filver, which this promife carries ; — 
Who chufctb mejhallget as much as he def trees. 
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt ;^— 
Who chufeth me^ mujt give and hazatd all he hath. — 
How (hall I know if L do chufe the right ? 

Por. The one of them contains my pifture, prince: 
If you chufe that, then I am yours withal. 

Mor. Some God direft my judgment ! Let me fee, 
I will furvey the infcriptions back again ; 
What fays this leaden cafket ; 
W^o chufeth mey mujl give and hazard all he hath. 

Muft give ? — For what? for lead ? hazard, for lead ? 

This cafket threatens. Men, that hazard all. 

Do it in hope of fair advantages: 

A golden mind ftoops not to (hows of drofs ; 

1*11 then not give, nor hazard, aught for lead. 

What fays the filver with her virgin hue ? 

^ho cbufeth me^fhall get as much as he deferves. 

As much as he deferves P—Paufe there, Morocco, 

And weigh thy value with an even hand. 

If thou bc'ft rated by thy eftimation, 

* at blunt,'] That is, as grofs as the dull metal. Johnson. 

L 3 Thou 



tgd THE MERCHANT* 

Thou doft defervc enough ; and yet enough 

May not extend fo far as to the lady 5 

And yet to be afraid of my deferving. 

Were but a weak difabling of myfelf. 

As much as I deferve !— why, that's the lady : 

I do in birth deferve her, and in fortunes. 

In graces, and in qualities of breeding ; 

But more than thefe, in love I do deferve. 

What if I ftray'd no farther, but chofe here ?— 

Let*s fee once more this faying grav'd in gold. 

Who chufetb me Jhall gain what many men defire. 

Why, that's the lady ; all the world dcfires her : 

From the four corners of the earth they come 

To kifs this (hrine, this mortal breathing faint. 

The Hircanian deferts, and the vafty wilds 

Of wide Arabia, are as thorough-fares now, 

For princes to come view fair Portia. 

The watery kingdom, whofe ambitious head 

Spits in the face of heaven, is' no bar 

To flop the foreign fpirits ; but they come. 

As o'er a brook to fee fair Portia. 

One of thefe three contains her heav'nly piclurc. 

Is*t like that lead contains her ? 'twere damnation 

To think fo bafc a thought : it were too grofs 

To rib her fearcloth in the obfcure grave. 

Or (hall I think, in filver fhe's immur'd. 

Being ten times undervalu'd to try'd gold ? 

O finful thought ! Never fo rich a gem 

Was fet in worfe than gold. They have in Englaiw^ 

A coin, that bears the figure of an angel 

Stamped in gold ; but that's infculp'd upon ; 

But here an angel in a golden bed 

Lyes all within. Deliver me the key \ 

JHlere do I chufe, and thrive 1 as I may ! 

VoT. There take it, prince, and if my form ly'^ 
there, - 
Then I am yours. [Unlocking the gold cajkef' 

I Af«r* 



OF VENICE. 151 

Idf. hell ! what have we here ? 

arrion death, within whofe empfy eye 

re is a written fcrowl ? Til read the writing. 

All that glijters is not gold \ 
Often have you beatd that told. 
Many a man bis life hatb fold^ 
But my outjide to heboid. 
Gilded tombs do worms infold: ^ 
tladyou been as wife as boldy 
Tdung in limbs ^ in judgment old. 
Tour anfwer had not been infcroFd •, * 
Fare you well\ your fuit is cold. 

9r. Cold, indeed ; and labour loft : 

I farewel, heat ; and welcome froft. 

a, adieu ? I have too griev'd a heart 

tke a tedknis leave.— Thus lofers part. [Exiti 

r. A gentle riddance: — draw the curtains*, go— 

ii of his complexion chiife me fo. ^ [Exeunt. 

SCENE 

UiJ nv9od may tverms infold.^ In all tke old editions thii 
written thus : 

Gilded timier do worms in/old, 
rhich Mr. Rowe and all the following editors have made 

Gilded wood may nvorms infold, 
not bad in itfelf, but not fo applicable to the occafion as 
lich, I believe, Shakefpeare wrote. 

Gilded tombs do worms in/old. 
) is the proper rcpofitory of a deatPi-biad. Joh nsok. 
ur an/iver had not bten infcroPd ;1 Since there is an anfwer 
/ or written in every ca&et, I believe for your we ihould 
vj. When the words were written y and y\ the mif- 
aseafy. Johnson. 

m/f me /o.\ The old aaarto edition of 1600 has no diflri- 
of adsy bat proceeds mm the beginning to the end in an 
en tenour. This play therefore having been probably di- 
vithont authority by the publifhers of the firft folio, lies 
anew regulation^ if aay more commodious diviiion can be 
L 4 propo(i^t 



152 THE MERCHANT 

SCENE VIIL 
Changes to Venice. 
- Enter Solarino and Salanio. 

Sal Why ipan, I faw Baflanio under fail ; 
With him is Gratiano gone along \ 
And in their fliip, I am ibre, LoEcnzo is not. 

Sola. The villain Jew with outcries rais'd theduk^* 
Who went with him to fearch Baffanio's fhip. 

SaL He came too late, the fliip was under fail: 
But there the duke was given to underftand, 
That in a Gondola were fcen together 
Lorenzo and his amorous Jeflica : 
Befides Anthonio certify'd the duke, 
They were not with Baflanio in his fhip. 

Sola. I never heard a paflTion fo confus'd. 
So ftrange, outrageous, and fo variable. 
As the dog Jew did utter in the ftreets ; 
Jl^ daughter ! — O my ducats ! — O my daughter ! 
Fled with a Chrijlian ? O my Cbrijlian ducats / — 

Jujiice I the law ! My ducats^ and my daughter!-^ ^ 

jl fealed bag^ tzvo Jealed bags of ducats^ 
Of double ducats^ ftoVn from me ly my daughter i 
And Jewels^ t:jioftones^ two rich and precious ftones^ 
Stotn by my daughter ! Jujiice ! find the girl ! 
She hath the Jiones upon her^ and the ducats I 

Sal. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him. 
Crying — his ftoncs, his daughter, and his ducats. 

Sola. Let good Anthonio look he keep his day j 
Or he fliall pay for this. 

SaL Marry, well remembered. 
I reafon'd with a Frenchman yefterday \ 
Who told me, in the narrow feas, that part 



propofed. The (lory is itfelf fo wildly incredible, and the chang 
of the fcene fo frequent and capricious, that the probability ofa« 
tion does not dcfcrvc much care ; yet it may be proper to obferv^^S^ 
that, by concluding the fccond a£l here, time is given for BaflG^^ 
D 10* s pafTage to Belmont. Johnson, 



" OF VENICE- tsi 

French and Englifli, there mifcarricd • 

effcl of our country, richly fraught: 
)ught upon Anthonio, when he told me, 
wifli'd in filence, that it were not his. 
la. You were beft to tell Anthonio what you hcar^ 
dp not fuddenly, for it may grieve him. 
i/. A kinder gentlenian treads not the earth, 
w Baffanio and Anthonio part, 
mio told him, he would make fomc fpeed 
mretwrn : he anlwer'd. Do not fo. 
hn not bujinefs for my fake^ Bajfanio^ 
fiay the very riping of the time j 
for the Jew*s bond^ which he hath of fnc% 
it not enter in * your mind of love •, 
nerry^ and employ your chief eft thoughts 
ourtjhip^ and fuch fair oftents of love^ 
/ball conveniently become you there. 
I even there, his eye being big with tears, 
ning. his face, he put his hand behind him. 
I with affedlion wondrous fenfiblc 
wrung Paflanio's hand, and fo they parted. 
7la. I think, he only loves the world for him, 
ay thee, let us go and find him out, 
i quicken his embraced heavinefs ' 
:h fome delight or other. 
If/. Do wc fOf [Exeunt. 

SCENE 

'•^our mni o/leve.'] So all the copies, but I fufpcft fomc 

iption. Johnson. 

his imaginary corruption is removed by only putting a comma 

' ffl»W. Langton. 

flc^ve^ is an adjuration fometimes ufed by Shakefpeare. So 

ry Wives, ad ii. fc. 7. 

• ^ici, — ^defircs you to fend her your little page of all 

M>iMi** i. e. ihe defires you to fend him fy all meam. 

\wrmindoJ love may however in thi$ inilance mean— jroi^r loving 

if or jour mittd*wbich ft?6uU ttoiju ti intent only en U*vi. 

Stbbybns. 
-^i M B R A c E D heavine/s^'] This unmeaning epithet would 
ke mechoofe rather to read, 

SNUACBD 



iS4 THE MERCHANT 

SCENE IX, 

BELMONT. 

Enter Nertffa with a Servant. 

Ner. Quick, quick,-;-! pray thee, draw thtaxtXsJJ^ 
ftrait ; 
The prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath. 
And comes to his clcftion prefcntly. 

Enter Arragon^ his train^ Portia. Flourijh of ecnif.^' 
TheCaJkets are dif covered. 

Per. Behold, there (land the cafkets, noble prin^^^ 
If you chufe that, wherein I am contained. 
Strait Ihall our nuptial rites be folemniz^d : 
But if you fail, without more fpcech, my lord. 
You muft be gone from hence immediately. 

Ar. I am enjoin*d by oath to obferve three thii^- 
Firft, never to unfold to any one 
Which calket 'twas I chofe ; — next, if I fail 
Of the right cafket, never in my life 
To woo a maid in way of marriage ; laftly 
If I do fail in fortune of my choice. 
Immediately to leave you, and be gone. 

ENRAGED heavinefs, 
from the French enraciner^ accrcfcere, inveter^fcere. So in MbcSl 
ado about Nothing, 

/ could not have ovued her a more rooted love. 
And again in Othello, 

IVith cne 0/ an iKGKAYT infi* mity. W a R b OK TOil. 
Of Dr. Warburton's correflion it is only ncce/Tary to obfefve^ 
that it has produced a new word, which' cannot be received witK* 
out ncccffity. When I thought the pa/Tage corrupted, it feedlcd 
K to me not improbable that Shakefpeare had written entrauced^hH' 
'vime/sy mufing, abftraded, moping melancholy. But I know 
not why any great efforts ihould be made to change a word whidi 
has no uncommodious or unufual fenfe. We fay of a man noKr, 
that be hugs bis forronur^ and why might not Anthonio emiritci 
btavineft. Jo h n son • 



O F V E N I c e: 1$s 

Por. To thcfc injunftions every one doth fwcar. 
That comes to hazard for my worthlefs felf. 

Jr. And lb havel addreft me.' Fortune now 
To my heart*s hope f — Gold, filver, and bafc lead. 
^"PTfo cbufetb me^ muft give and hazard all he hath. 
ITou fliall look fairer, ere I give or hazard. 
What fays the golden cheft ? Jia ! let me fee — 
^bo cbufitb me Jhall gain what many men defire. 
What many men defire, — That many maybe meant 
Of die fool- multitude, that chufe \fj fhow. 
Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach ; 
Which pries not to the interior, but, like the martlet 
Builds in the weather on the outward wall. 
Even in the force and road of cafualty. 
I will not chufe what many men defire, 
Bccaufel will not jump with common fpirits. 
And rank me with the barbarous multitudes, 
^hy then to thee, thou filver treafure-houfe :— 
Tell me once more, what title thou doft bear. 
Wbochufeth me^ Jkall get as much as be deferves ; 
And well faid too-, for who fhall go about 
To cozen fortune, and be honourable 
Without the (lamp of merit ? Let none prefumc 
To wear an undeferved dignity. 
0, that eftates, degrees, and offices. 
Were not deriv'd corruptly ! and that clear honour 
Were purchased by the merit of the wearer ! 
How many then fhould cover, that fl:and bare ? 
How many be commanded, that command ? 
How much low peafantry would then be gleaned 
From the true feed of honour? ^ and how much honour 

PickM 

* M /§ I ha'ue addreft me,] So in Hen. V. To-morrow for 
nrm^rtb hah are addreft. The meaning is, I have prepared my- 
self by die fame ceremonies. St sevens. 

* Hoixj much loin f^afa*ilry nvouJd thin Be glean* d 
Fr^m the true feed of honour ?] * 

Tkc meaning is, flow much meannefs lunld bt found among thf 

great 



156 THE MERCHANT 

Picked from the chafFand ruin of the times. 
To be new varniflicd ? ^ Well, but to my choice : 
Who cbujetb mejhall get as much as be deferves: 
I will affumc defert ; Give me a key for this. 
And inftantly unlock my fortunes here. 

Por. Too long a paufe for that which you fii 

there. [Unlocking the ftlver cajktf^ 

Ar. What's here ! the portrait of a blinking idiot, ^ 
Prcfcnting me a fchedule ? I will read it. 
i— How much unlike art thou to Portia? 
How much unlike my hopes, and my defervings? 
Who chufes me jhall have as much as be deferves. 
Did I deferve no more than a fool's head ? 

great t and bow much greatnfjs among the mean. But fincc men irr 
always faid to glean corn though they may pick chafF, the feo- 
tence had been more agreeable to the common manner of fpeecb 
if it had been written thus, 

Honu much Utv peafantry nuould then he pick'd 
From the true /ted of honour ? how much honour 
Glean'd from the chaff Joh n son. 

^ honju much honour 

Pickt from the chaff and ruin of the times f 
To be neuu varnifti*d ? — ] 
This confufion and mixture of the metaphors^ makes me think that 
Shakefpeare wrote. 

To he neiv vanned.- * 
i.e. winnow'd, purged, from the French word, manner', which 
is derived from the Latin ^ annus, namilahrum^ the yi/f ufed for 
winnowing the chaff from the corn. This alteration reftorestbc 
metaphor to its integrity : and our poet frequently ufes the fame 
thought. So in the 2d Part of Hen. IV. 

We /hall he winnow'd nvth fo rough a nvind^ 
That even our zoxn fhall feem as light as chaC 

Warburtoh. 
Shakefpeare is perpetually violating the integrity of his meta- 
phors, and the emendation propofed feems to me to be as faulty 
as unneceffary ; for what is TiXxt^Ay feliSled from the chaff W^ 
rot be new ^vanned. I wonder Dr. Warburton did not thtft 
of changing the word ruin into ro-duingt which in fomc counties 
©f England, is ufed to fignify the fccond and inferior crop of graft 
which is cut in autumn. St££V£ns. i 

Is 



O F V E N I C E. 157 

t my prize ? arc my dcfcrts no better ? 
•. To offend, and judge, are diftinft offices, 
jf oppofed natures. 
, What is here ? 

^be fire feven times tried tbis'j 
Seven times tried that Judgment is, 
^bat did never cbufe amifs. 
Sometberebe^ tbat Jbadows kifs^ 
Such bave but ajhadaw^s ilifs : 
^bere be fools alive, I wisy 
Silvered o^er^ and fo was tbis. 
Take what wife you will to-bcd^ \ 
J will ever be your bead : 
Sp be gone, fir, you are fped. 

, Still more fool I fhall appear, 
ic time I linger here. 

one fool's head I came to woo, 

go away with two. 

t, adieu ! — I'll keep my oath, ^ 

ntly to bear my wroath. ^ [Exit. > 

^ Thus hath the candle fing'd the moth. 3 
rfe deliberate fools ! when they do chufe, 

have the wifdom by their wit to lofe. 
r. The ancient faying is no herefy •, 
;ing and wiving goes by deftiny. 
^ Come, draw the curtain, Neriffa. 

Enter a Servant. 
V. Where is my lady ? 

aii what nnift you ivill to M.] Perhaps the poet had' for* 
that he who mifTcd Portia was never to marry any woman. 

JOHNSOir. 

— /tf Sear my wrath.] The.old editions read — " to bear 
ruubV fVroatb is ufe d in fome of the old books for mis/or' 
and is often fpelt like ruth^ which at prefent iignifies only 
>r forr9w for the mi/try of oftotbsr. Stisvens. 

Par. 



158 THE MERCHANT 

For. Here ; What would my lord ? 

Zero. Madam, there is alighted at your gate 
A young Venetian, one that comes before ' 
To fignify the approaching of his lord : 
From whom he bringeth fcnfible regreets ; 
To wit, befides commends and courteous breath, 
Gifts of rich value ; yet, I have not fecn 
So fikely an ambaffador of love. 
A day in April never came fo fwcet. 
To (how how coftly fummcr was at hand. 
As this fore-fpurrer comes before his lord, 

For. No more, I pray thee ; I am half afraid, 
Thoul't fay anon, he is fome kin to thee. 
Thou fpend*ft fuch high-day wit in praifing him. 
Come, come, Ncrifla -, for I long to fee \ 

Quick Cupid's poft, that comes fo mannerly. \ 

Ner. Baflanio, lord Love, if thy will it be ! J 

[Exeu^si. 



ACT III. SCENE L 

A Street in Venice. 
Enter Salanio and Solarino. 

SOLARINO. 

NOW, what news on the Rialto? 
Sal Why, yet it lives there unchecked, tha^a^ 
Anthonio hath a Ihip of rich lading wrecked on f^^^ 
narrow feas; the Goodwins, I think they call C^^^ 
place; a very dangerous flat, and fatal, where t::*^^^ 
carcafes of many a tall fliip lie buried, as they fay^ ^ 
my goffip Report be an honeft woman of her worc^* . 

Sola. I would (he were as lying a goflip in th^^ 
as ever knapt ginger ; or made her neighbours t3*' 
lieve, fhe wept for the death a third bulbaod. 13^} 



O F V E N I C E. 159 

true, without any flips of prolixity, or eroding 
^Uin high-way of talk, that the good Anthonio^ 

boneft Anthonio O that I had a title good 

gh to keep his name company I 

K Come, the full flop. 

a. Ha, — what fay'ft thou ? — Why, the end is, 

xh loft a (hip. 

I I would it might prove the end of his lofles ! 

a. Let me fay Amen betimes, left the devil crofs 

fTdjcr I ^ for here he comes in the likenefs of a 

Enler Sbykck. 

now, Shy lock ? what news among the merchants ? 

r. You knew, none fo well, none fo well as you, 

J daughter's flight. 

. That's certain ; I, for my part, knew the tay- 

lat made the wings (he flew withal. 

%. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the 

ffzs fledgM; and then it is the coniplexion of 

all to leave the dam. 

r. She is damn'd for it. 

. That's certain, if the devil may be her judge. 

'. My own fle(h and blood to rebel ! 

I. Out upon it, old carrion I rebels it at thefe 

years ? 
• I fay, my daughter is my fle(h and blood. 
'. There is more difference between thy fle(h 
crs, than between jet and ivory ; more between 
bloods, than there is between red wine and rhe- 
— But tell us, do you hear, whether Anthonio 
had any lofs at fea or no ? 
\ There I have another bad match : a bank- 

m-'^kft tbt dfvil craft my prajfir,] But the prayer was Sala- 
The other only, at cleric, fays Jmen to it. We muft 
« read— thy prayer. WAEBuaroN. 

nipt. 



i6o THE MERCHANT 

rupt, a prodigal, ^ who dares fcarce fhew his head ofl 
the Rialto : — a beggar thftt us'd to come fo fmug 
upon the mart -, — let him look to his bond : he was 
wont to call me ufurer : — let him look to his bond: 
he was wont to lend money for a Chriftian courtefy; 
let him look to his bond^ 

Sal. Why, I am fure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not 
take his flcfh : what's that good for ? • 

Sly. To bait fifh withal. If it will feed nothing 
elfe, it will feed my revenge. He hath difgrac'd me, 
and hindered meof half a million; laugh'd at my lofles, 
mock'd at my gains, fcorn'd my nation, thwarted my 
bargains, cool'd my friends, heated mine enemies; 
and what's his reafon ? I am a Jew. Hath not i 
Jew eyes ? hath not a Jew hands, organs, diftienfions. 
fenfes, afFedions, paffions? fed with the fanrie food, 
hurt with the fame weapons, fubjeft to the fame diC 
eales, heal'd by the fame means, warm*d and cooHc 
by the fame winter and fummer, as a Chriftian is ? k 
you prick us, do we not bleed ? if you tickle us, d 
we not laugh ? if you poifon us, do we not die ? an> 
if you wrong us, (hall we not revenge ? if we are lit 
you in the reft, we* will refemble you in that. If 
Jew wrong a Chriftian, what is his humility ? R^ 
venge. If a Chriftian wrong a Jew, what mould la 

' a bankrufty a pro^ij^a/.] This is fpoke of Antonio. 3 

why a prcdjgal ? his friend BafTanio indeed had been too liberal 
and with this name the Jew honours him when he is going toCl 
with him. 

Vll go in hate to feed upon 
The prodigal Chriftian——— 
But Antonio was a plain, rcfcrved, parfimonious merchant ; 

affurcd therefore we fhould read, A bankrupt for a pr$iig^ 

i. e. he is become bankrupt by fupplying the extravagancies 
his friend BafTanio. War bur ton. 

There is no need of alteration. There coeld be, in Shylo^ 
opinion, no prodigality more culpable than fuch liberality ai tin 
by which a man expofes himfelf to ruin for his friend. 

JOHKSO*. 

fufFcrana 



OF VENICE. i6i 

fufierance be by Chriftian example ? why^ Revenge. 
The villainy, you teach me, I will execute ; and it 
(hull go hard, but I will better the inftruftion. 

Enfer afcrvant. 

Sffv. Centlemen, my mailer Anthonio is at his 
lioufe, and defires to fpeak with you both. 
Sd. We have been up and down to feck him. 

Enter Tubal. 
Sola. Here comes another of the tribe ; a third can- 
iiot be match'd, unlefs the devil himfelf turn Jew« 

[Exeuni Sala. and Solar. 
Sty. How now. Tubal, what news from Genoa ? 
haft thou found my daughter ? 

JW. I often came where I did hear of her, but 
cannot find her. 

Shy. Why there, there, there, there ! a diamond 

gone, coft me two thoufand ducats in Frankfort ! the 

curfc never fell upon our nation 'till now j I never fcic 

t 'till now : — two thoufand ducats in that, and other 

>recious, precious jewels.— J would, my daughter 

wc dead at my foot, and the jew^rls in her ear ! O, 

ould (he were hears*d at my foot, and the ducats in 

^coffin! No news of them?— why, fo: — and I 

vow not what's fpent in the fearch : Why, thou 

s upon lofs ! the thief gone with fo much, and fo 

vch to find the thief; and no fatisfaftion, no re- 

vge : nor no ill luck ftirring, but what lights o* 

Ihoulders ; no fighs, but o* my breathing, no 

s, but o* my Ihedding. 

ub. Yes, other men have ill luck too ; Anthonio, 
heard in Genoa — 

7. What, what, what ? ill luck, ill luck ? 
*. Hath an Argoly caft away, coming from Tri- 

♦. I thank God, I thank God : Is it true ? is it true ? 
^OL. III. M rub. 



i6t THE MERCHANT 

Titt. I fpoke with fomc of the failors (hat el 
the wreck. 

Shy. I thank thee, good Tubal ; Good news-, 
news: ha! ha! where? in Genoa ? 

Tuk Your daughter fpent in Genoa, as I i 
one night, fourfcore ducais. 

Shy. Thou ftick'ft a dagger in me : I fliall 
fee my gold again : fourfcore ducats at a fii 
fourfcore ducats I 

3«^. There tame divers of Antonio's credit 
my company to Venice, that fwear he cannot 
but break. 

Siy. I am glad of it. I'll plague him, VU ti 
him. I am glad of it. 

Tub. One of them fhewed me a ring, thdt k 
of your daughter for a monkey. 

Shy. Out upon her! Thow tortureft me, T 
—It was my Turquoife, I had it of Leah w 
was a bachelor ' : I would not have given it for 
derncfs of monkies. 

Tut. But Anthonio is certainly undone. 

Shy. Nay, that's true, that's very true : go, 
bal) fee me an officer, befpeak him a fortnigl 
fore. I -will have the heart of him, if he forfeit 
were he out of Venice, I can make what mcr 

• It was my Turfun/ff I had it of Leah ^ Vfhin I < 

hacbtlorJ] As Shylock nad been married long enough to 
daughter orrown up, it is p^ain he did not value this Turan^ 
account of the money for which he might hope to fell : 
merely in rcfpcdl of the imaginary virtues formerly afcril 
the done. It was faid of the Tarky-ftoae, that it fiided or 1 
ened in its colour, as the health of the wearer encreafed o 
left. To this B. Jonfon refers, in his Sejanus : 

" And true SisTuri/g in my dear lord's ring ; 

•• Look well, or ill with him." 
Other fuperftitious qualities are imputed to it, all of whic 
either aoaiti^j or preiervative to tke wearer. Steiviits, 



O f^ V E M 1 C E. iffj 

dize t nHl. GOj go, 'tobal, and meet me at our 
fynagogue; £65 good Tubals at out fynagogue. 
Tubal. [ExeuHti 

S C E N E IL 

belMont. 

EMH-BaJiHhi Pdrtia^ Grdtiano^ and Mtmiami. 
the ca/kets an fit oat. 

P^, I f>fay you^ tarry ; — paufc a day or tWo, 
fecfore you hazard ; for, iti chufing wrong 
1 lofc your company ; therefore, forbear a while* 
"Ffcfc s fomcthing tells me, but it is not love, 
I would not lofc you ; and you know yourfclf, 
Hate counfels not in fuch a quality. 
But left yoii fliould not underftartd me well, 
(And vet a maiden hath no tongue but thought) 
Iwould detain you here fome month or two, 
«firfe you venture for me. I could teach you 
How to cbufe right, but I am then forfworn ) 
Sb 1^ I never be : fo you may mifs me ; 
Bwtf you do, youMl make me wilh a fin^ 
T^f had been forfworn. Befhrew your eyes, 
They have o*erlook'd me, and divided me ; 
(^-half of me is yours, the other half yours. 
Mine own, I would fay : but if mine, then yours } 
Sfiifo all yours. Oh ! thefe naughty times 
l^Qt bars between the owners and their rights : 
And ib though yours, not yours. — Prove it fo, ♦ 
Let fortune go to hell for it,— Not I. * 

Ilpeak 

J^inifi fBopgb jdHtj^ nor jcurs.-^Pri'Vi it /o.] It may ht 
Mrpiisifflaticall/ read, 

JfnJ fo though y:urt I'm not yours, Johnson. 
^ btfirtumi go to hell for it, not /.] This line is verv obfcurc. 
^ finn of the exprefiion alludes to what (he had faid of being 
M a forfworn* 



i64 THE MERCHANT 

I fpeak too long ; but 'tis to piece the time^ 
To eke it, and to draw it out in length. 
To ftay you from elcdion. 

Bajf. Let me chufe ; 
For, as I am, I live upon the rack, 

Por. Upon the rack, Baflanio ? then confefs 
What treafon there is mingled with your love. 

Baff. None, but that ugly treafon of miftruflr^ 
Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love : 
There may as well be amity and life 
'Tween fnow and fire, as treafon and my love. 

Pvr. Ay, but, I fear, you fpeak upon the rack,. 
Where men enforced do fpeak any thing. 

BaJf. Promife me life, and V\\ confefs the trutb*^ 

Por. Well then, confefs and live. 

BaJf. Confefs, and love. 
Had been the very fum of my confeflion. 
O happy torment, when ray torturer 

forfworn. After fome flruggle, fhe refolyes to keep heroatb: 
and then fays. Let fortune go to hell for it. For what ! not £531 
telling or favouring BaiTanio, which was the temptation (heth^sf 
lay under : for fortune had taken no oath. And, rarel)^, fmt^Mm 
more favouring a man of merit,, fortune did not dderve (confid^s^ 
ing how rarely flic tranfgrcffcs this way) fo fevere a fenten^si 
^juch lefs could the fpeaker, who h\o\xf6, BafTanio, thmk ^C 
The meaning theii muft be^ Lst fortune rather go to bell for ^■b 
fa*vourivg Bajfanio^ than I for favouring him. So loofely dc - 

our author fometimes ufe his pronouns net I does not fign_ "^ 

Let net I go to hell; for then it (hould be Let net me. But it m- 
diilindt fentence ofitfelf: and is a very common proverbiaffpee^^ 
fignifying, I will have nothing to do with it. Which if the C^^ 
ford editor had confidered, he might have fpared his paint' 
changing /into wr. Warburton. 

The meaning is, " If the worft I fear fhould happen, an<^Si 
«« (hould prove in the event, that J, who am juftly yours by t 
«* free donation I have made you of myfelf, fhould yet not i 
** yours in confcquence of an unlucky choice, let fortune g^^J 
«* hell for robbing you of your juft due, not I for violaci^Bflj 
•« myoathj*' Retisal. 



O F V E N I C E. . 165 

Dpth teach mc anfwcrs for deliverance ! 
But let me to cny fortune and the cafkets. 

Por. Away then I I am lock'd in one of them ; 
[f you do love me, you will find me out, 
Nfcrifla, and the reft, ftand all aloof— 
Letmufick found, while he doth make his choice; 
Then, if he lofe, he makes a fwah-like end, 
Fading in mufick. That the comparifon 
May ftand more juft, my eye (hall be the ftream 
Andwat'ry death-bed for him.— He may win ; 
And what is mufick then ? then mufick is 
Even as the flouriih, when the fubjedls bow 
To a new-crowned monarch : fuch it is. 
As are thofe dulcet founds in break of day. 
That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear. 
And fununon him to marriage. Now he goes, 
With BO lefs prefexice, * but with much more love, 
Than young Alcides, when he did redeem 
The virgin tribute, paid by howling Troy 
To the fea-monfter: I ftand for facrifice, 
The reft aloof are the Dardanian wives, 
MTith bleared vifages come forth to view 
The iffue of the exploit. Go, Hercules 1 
Live thou, I live. — With much, much more difmay ' 
I view the fight, than thou that mak'ft the fray. 

\Mufick within. 

* With %• lift pffiace.l Witk the fame dignity $f mien.^ 

Johnson. 

* Li'ut thouy I li've.'-^JVitb much, much more difmay 

I'vievithe Jight, thflflthou, that maJCfi the fray. '\ 
One of the quartos reads ; 

hive thm^ J Ii*ve *w:th much more difmay 

To view the fight f thoM, Sec, 
TbefcUo, 1623, thus ; 

Live then, I live nvith much more difinw^ 

I vievj the fight, than, &c. 
The other quartos give the prefect reading. Joh nsom • 

M 3 Afong 



166 THE MpJitCHA^T 

4fong, wbilfi Bajfanh comments on fkt €^M tpUntftlf. 
Till m^ where is fanc^ hredy \ 

In the heart 'i or in tie bead? \ 

How begot^ how ncurijhed? J 



Kcply,^ 



// is engendered in the eyes 



With gazing fed ; and fancy dies i 

In the cradle where it lies ; I 

Let us all ring fancy's knell. 

ril begin it^-- Ding dong^ ML 

All. Dingj dong^ bell. 

Baff. -r-So may the putward fliows ^ be leaft tJij^W 
fclves; 

The world is ftill deceived with ornaipcnt 
In law, what plea fo tainted and corrupt. 
But being feafon -d with a gracious voice, * 
Obfcures the (how pf evil ? In religion. 
What damned error, but fome fobpr brow 
Will blefs it, and approve.it with a text. 
Hiding the groflfnefs with fair ornanicnt ? 
There is no vice fo fimple, but affumes 
Some mark of virtue oij its outward parts. 
How many cowards, whofe hearts are all ^s fjUf<^ 
As ftairs of ftnd, wear yet upon their chin$ 
The beards pf Hercules and frowning Mars-, 
>Vho, inward fearch'd, have livers white as milk ? 
And thefe aflurpe but valour's excrement, 
To render them redoubted. Look on beauty. 
And you fliall fee *tis purchased by the weight •, 
Which therein works a miracle in natur^, 

♦ Rep^y>'\ Thcfe words, rtpJy^ reply ^ were in all the late c^*^ 
lions, except iir T. Hanxner*s, put as a verfc in the fong, ba^ ^ 
all the old copies ftand as a marginal direftion. JoHBrtoir* \ 

* So may the eufwarel Jhoma^ He begins abruptly, the ^^ 
part of the argument has paffed in his mind. JoHNSO;r. 

• '^graeioHi wi(e,^ Pleaiiog; win nifig favour. Johmsoii^^ 

? Makiri^ 



OF VENICE. 167 

Q2 dicm lighteft that wear moft of ic 
rthofe crifpcd fnaky golden locks, 
h make fuch wanton gambols with the wind, 
fuppo&d fairnefs, often known 
I the dowry of a fccond head, 
bill, chat bred them* in the fepulchre. 
ornament is but the guiled (liore 
tDoft dangerous fea ; the beauteous fcarf 
ig an Indian beauty \^ in a word, 
reminK truth which cunning times put on 
trap tne wifefL Therefore, thou gaudy gold, 
food for Midas, I will none of thee: 
one of thee, thou pale and common drudge 
m man and man : but thou, thou meager lead, 
b rather threatneft, than doft promife aught, 
Jainnefs moves me more than eloquence ;* 
kcre chufe I. Joy be the confequence ! 
. How all the other paffions fleet to air, 
•ubtful thoughts, and rafli-embrac'd defpair, 
hudd'ring fear, and grcen-cy*d jealoufy. 
e, be moderate, allay thy ecftafy* 
afure rain thy joy, ' leant this excefs ; 
too much thy blefTing, make it lefs, 

For 

Ua:(f k!^uty,\ Sir Tbo. Hanmer reads, 

Indian dtinxiy. Johnson. 

J palenofs, mfi^ues mt mor^ than tUquincei] BafTatuo is Axi* 
at the golden eafiet for its gaivdine/s^ ^nd the filver one 
)4dt9ifi % ^t« what I is he charm'd with the leaden one fcr 
die very fame quality that difpleafed him ia the filver^ 
et certainly wrot«, 

^h pl^innels md*ueivu tiutrt tham eUqmena: 
laraderizes the lead from the (jlver, which falmtfs does 
ey being both pale. Befides, there is a beauty in the Air- 
between plainntf. and elcqiunce : between paierefs and f/#* 
lone. So it is faid before of the leoilen cnjk^t \ 

]n» third dull Uad^ with warning all as blunt. Wa an. 

miafurt rain thy joy. ] The firft quarto edition reads, 

In nua/mrt range thy joy. 

M 4 The 



i68 THE MERCHANT 

For fear I furfeit ! [Opening the leaden tajke 

Bajf. What find I here ? 
Fair Portia's counterfeit ? What Demy-god 
Hath come fo near creation ? Move thefc eyes? 
Or whether, riding on the balls of mine. 
Seem they in motion ? Here are fever'd lips 
Parted with fugar breath ; fo fweet a bar ^ 
Should funder fuch fweet friends. Here in her haL 
The painter plays the fpider ; and hath woven 
A golden mefli to inirap the hearts of men, 
Fafter than gnats in cobwebs. But her eyes,— • 
How could he fee to do them ? having made one, 
Methinks, it (hould have power to deal both his. 
And leave itfelf unfurnifli'd. ' Yet look how far 
The fubftance of my praifc doth wrong this fhadov« 
In underprizing it, fo far this fhadow 
Doth limp behind the fubftance. — ^Here's the fcrowl 
Th^ continent and fummary of my fortune. 

The folio and one of the quartos. 
In meafure rainc thy joy. 

I once belicv'4 Shakcfpcare meant. 

In wuafurt rein thy joy. 

The words rain and rein were not in thefe times difUoguiflieJL 
regular orthography. There is no difficulty in the prefent r^- 
}n^, only where the copies vary fome fufpicion of error is alwr^ 
raifcd. Johnson. 

I believe Shakefpeare alluded to the well-known proverb^p 
tattnot rain, hut it pours , Steevens. 

■ Methinks it fljpuld have po^^r tofteal hoth his^ 
A 'id leave it/elf unfwrnijh'd :— ] 

I know not how unfinifi'dhoLS intruded without notice into 
later editions, as the quartos and folio have unfurn-Jhed^ whicli, 
Tho, Hanmer has received. Perhaps it might be, 

4nd leave himfelf un/urttijb'd^ Johhson, 



r< 



O F V E N I C E. i€f 

Tou that chufenot by the vieWy 
Chance as fairy and chufe as true! 
Since this fortune falls to you^ 
Be content^ andfeek no new. 
If you be well fleas* d with this^ 
And hold your fortune f^r your blifs^ 
Turn you where your lady is. 
And claim her with a loving kifs. 

A gentle fcrowl ;— Fair lady, by your leave— 

[KiJJing her. 
I come by note, to give and to receive. 
Like one of two contending in a prize. 
That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes. 
Hearing applatife, and univerfal fhout. 
Giddy in fpirit, ftill gazing, in a doubt, 
Whether thpfe * peals of praife be his or no; 
So, thrice fair lady, (land I, even fo. 
As doubtful whether what I fee be true. 
Until confirmed, fign*d, ratify'd by you. 

?^. You fee, my lord Baffanio, where I ftand, 
Such^s I am. Tho*, for myfelf alone, 
I would not be ambitious in my wifh. 
To wiOi myfelf much better; yet, for you, 
I would be trebled twenty times myfelf, 
Athoufand times more fair, ten thoufand times 
^4ore rich ; that, to (land high in your account, 
I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends. 
Exceed account : but the full fum of me 
Isfum of (bmeching; ' which, to term in grofs. 
Is an unle(ron'd girl, unfchool'd, unpraftisM: 

* Ptals.] The (econd 410 reads, PearUs of praife. Johnsow. 
^ ^ It$vuo//9methhg,^ We (hould read, some o/fomiilini^ 
>■ «. only a piece, or part only of an imperfedl account ; whicl| 
w explains in the following line. W a r b u rton . 

Tl^as one of the quartos. The folio reads, 

Js/um ^nothing.— ^- Sts evbkj. 

Happf 



X70 THE MERCHAJSTT 

Happy in. this, (he is not yet foold 
But (he may learn 5 and happier than thif. 
She is not bred fo dull but Ihe can learn •, 
Happieft of all is, that her gentle fpirit 
Commits itfelf to yours to be direfted, 
As fronrj her lord, her governor, her king. 
Myfelf, and what is mine, to you, and yours 
Is now converted : but now I was the lord 
Of this fair manfion, mafter of my fervants. 
Queen o'er myfelf -, and even now, but now, 
This houfe, thefe fervants, and this fame myfelf 
Are yours, my lord ; 1 give them with this ring^ 
Which, when you part from, lofe, or give away, 
Let it prefage the ruin of your love. 
And be my vantage to exclaim on you, 

Bajf. Madam, you have bereft me ofall wordsi,. 
Only my blood (peaks to you in my veins : 
And there is fuch ponfufion in my powers, 
As, after fomc oration fairly fpoke 
By a beloved prince, there doth appear 
Among the buzzing pleafed multitude; 
Where every fomcthing, being bjent together. 
Turns to a wild of nothing, favc of joy, 
Expreft, and not expreft. But when this ripg 
Parts from this finger, then partsi life from hence ^ 
O, then be bold to fay, Baflanio's dqtd. 

Ner. My lord and lady, it is now oqr time. 
That have flood by, and feen our wiflies profper, 
To cry, grfod jory ; Good joy, piy lord and l^dy I 

Gra, My lord BaiTanio, and my gentle lady, 
I wi(h you all the joy that you pan wifh \ 
For, I am fure, you can wifh none ♦ from me: 
And when your honours mean to folcmnize 
The bargain of your faith, I do bcfeech you. 
Even at that time I may be married too. 

ycu can nvijh none from me :] That is, none fi^^ 



fro:u m(r; noce that I ihall lofe, if 70U gain it. Jojivsoif. 



OF VENICE. , 17^1 

f. With all my heart, fo thou canft get a wife. 

I. I thank your lordfliip; you have ^ot me one. 

jfes, my lord, can look as fwift as yours ; 

aw the miftrcfs, I beheld the maid ; 

ov'd, I lov'd ; for intcrmiflion 

ore pertains to me, my lord, ihan jrou^ 

fortune ftood upon the caflket therp j 

b did mine too, as the matter fall^ ; 

'ooipg here until I fweat again, 

fwearmg till my very roof was dry 

oaths of love; at laft, if pron^ife laft^ 

a promife of this fair one here, 

lye her love, provided that yyur fgrtupt 

ev'd her miftiefs. 

. Is this true, Nerifla ? 

•. Madam, it is, fo you ftand pleas'd withal. 

K And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith? 

r. Yes, faith, my lord. 

K Our feaft (hall be much hoqourM in your 



marriage. 



r. We'll play with them, the firft boy, for a 

md ducats. 

\ What, and ftake down ? 

r. No, we fhall ne'er win at that fport, an^ 

(lake down. 

ho comes here ? Lorenzo and hi3 infidel ? 
, and my old Venetian friend, Salanio ? 

Enter Lorenzo^ J^ffi(^9 ^^^ Salanic. 

/I Lorenzo, and S^Ianio, welcome hither j 
t the youth of my ne\v intere(t here 
power to bid you welcome. By your leave^ 
my very friends and countrymen, 
Portia, welcome. 

•. So do I, my lord ; they are eqtirely welcome, 
^ I thank your honour. Eor my part, my lord^ 

«My 



172 THE MERCHANT 

My purpofe was not to have fcen you here; 
But meeting with Salanio by the way. 
He did intreat me, paft all faymg nay, 
To come with him along. 

Sal. I did, my lord. 
And I have reafon for't. Signior Anthonio 
Commends him to you. [Gives Bafjafdo a UU^r- 

Bajf* Ere I ope his letter, 
I pray you tell me how my good friend doth. 

SaL Not Tick, my lord, unlefs it be in mind ; 
Nor well, unlefs in mind : his letter there 
Will (bew you his eftate. [Bajfanio opens a letter, 

Gra. Ncrifla, cheer yon* ftranger: bid her welcome. 
Your hand, Salanio -, What's the news from Venice? 
How doth that royal merchant, good Anthonio? 
1 know, he will be glad of our fuccefs: 
We are the Jafons, we have won the fleece. 

SaL Would you had won the fleece, that he bath 
loft! 

For. Thfirc arc fomc ihrcwd contents in yon* fame 
paper; 
That fteal the colour from Baflanio's cheek : 
Some dear friend dead ; elfe nothing in the world . 
Could turn fo much the conftitution 
Of any conftant man. What, worfe and worfc I 
With leave, BaflTanio, I am half yourlelf. 
And I muft have the half of any thing 
That this fame paper brings you. 

Bajf. O fweet Portia, 
Here are a few of the unpleafant'ft words. 
That ever blotted paper ! Gentle lady. 
When I did firft impart my love to you, 
I freely told you, all the wealth 1 had 
Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman -, 
And th^n I told you true. And yet, dear lady. 
Eating myfelf at nothing, you ihall fee 

Hov/ 



OF VENICE. i7i 

Tow much I was a braggart : When I told you, 
ly ftate was nothing, I (hould then have told yoa, 
hat I was worfe than nothing. For, indeed, 
have engag'd myfelf to a dear friend, 
•ngag'd my friend to his meer enemy, 
"o feed my means. Here is a letter, lady, 
The paper as the body of my friend, 
^nd every word in it a gaping wound, 
fluing life-blood. But is ic true, Salanio ? 
riave all his ventures fail'd ? what not one hit ? 
From Tripolis, from Mexico, from England, 
From Lilbon, Barbary, and India ? 
And not one veffel *fcap*d the dreadful touch 
Of merchant-marring rocks ? 

W. Not one, my lord, 
Bcfides, it fhould appear, that if he had 
The prefent money to difcharge the Jew, 
He would not take it. Never did I know 
A creature, that did bear the the fliapc of man. 
So keen and greedy to confound a man. 
He plies the duke at morning, and at night. 
And doth impeach the freedom of the ftate. 
If they deny him juftice. Twenty merchants. 
The duke himfclf and the magnificoes 
Of greateft port, have all perfuaded with him ; 
But none can drive him from the envious plea 
Of forfeiture, of juftice, and his bond.^ 

Jef, When I was with him, I have heard him fwear. 
To Tubal, and to Chus, his country-men. 
That he would rather have Anthonio's flefli^ 
Than twenty times the value of the fum 
That he did owe him : and I know, my lord, 
If law, authority, and power deny not. 
It will go hard with poor Anthonio. 

Pvr, Is it your dear friend, that is thus in trouble ? 

M The dearcft friend to me j the kindcft man. 

The 



174 TrtE MERCHANT 

* The beft concfition'd : — an unwcaryM fpirit 
In doing courtefies ; and one in whom 
The ancient Roman honour more appears. 
Than any that draws breath in Italy. 

Por. What turn owes he the Jew? 

Bajf. f*>)r me, three thoufand ducats. 

Por. What, no mpr6 ? 
Pay himiix thoufand, and deface the bond \ 
Double fix thoufahd, and then treble that. 
Before a friend of this defcription 
Shall lofe a hair through my BafTanio's fault. 
Firll, go with me to church, and call me wifci 
And then away to Venice to your friend j 
For never (hall you lie by Portia's fide 
With an unc|uict foul. You fhall have gold 
To pay the petty debt twenty times over. 
When it is paid, bring your true friend along : 
My maid Ncrifla and myiclf, mean time. 
Will live as maids and widows. Comc,-^away ! 
For you (hall hence upon your wedding-day. 
Bid your friends welcome, (hew a merry cKcrf; 
Since you arc dear bought, I will love you dear. 
—But let me hear the letter of your friend. 

Bafl: reads. Cff^EET Bafarfioy my Jbips hdi^ittP^ff 
^ carry' d^ my creditors gro^ cruHy iih e^^i* 
is very Icw^ n^bcnd to tke Jew is forfeit \* ariifiicfi^ i$ 
payiftg it, is impojfible I fkould live^ all debts e^e cl^rid 
between yea ana me^ if I might but fee y ate ai my dedti* 
Notwitbftanding^ ttfe your pkafiire : if ytmr loittdit^ 
ftrfuade you to come^ let not Pty letter. 

* TJbe htft condifion*d KJUli uhwtarfi J^ifU 
In 4/eiHg c9urtifits ; ] 

To be rtad and pointed thus, 

Tht beft tOMditiot^d: Alt unwcuffdj^rit. 

WARBVlLt(m# 



O F V E N I C E. 175 

'• O love, difpatch all bufincfs, and be gonei 
T. Since 1 have your good leave to go away^ 
will make hafte : but, 'tiU I come again, 
rd fhall e*cr be guilty of my ftay, 
•^o reft be interpofer *twixt us twain* [Eneuni. 

SCENE IIL 

Cbattges to a Sireet in Venice, 
ter Sbyhcky Solatino^ Jnthonio^ and the Gaeler. 

K Gaoler, look to him 5-^— Tell not mt of 

mercy -, 

is the fool, that lent out money gratis ;-^ 

rr, look to him. 

lb. Hear nF>e yet, good Shylock, 

\ I'll have my bond; fpeak not againft my bond: 

e fworn an oath, that I will have nfiy bond. 

I cairdft me dog, before thou had'ft a caufe i 

fince I am a d6g, bewafe my fangs. 

luke fhall grant n^e juftice. I do wonder, 

I naughty gaoler, that thou art* fo fond 

}me abroad with him at his requeft. 

tb. I pray thee, hear me fpeak. 

^ ril have my bond ; 1 will not hear thee 

fpeak :— 
avc my bond •, and therefore fpeak no nK>re« 
ot be made a foft and dull-ey'd fool, 
lake the head, relent, and figh, and yield 
[i^hriftian interceflors. Follow not ; 
avc no fpeaking ; I will have my bond. 

lExitSlyhck. 
la. It is the mod impenetrable cur, 
t ever kept with men. 

* - ■■ fi /ondf'] i.e. fofooliflu Stievbns. 

/nth^ 



tj6 THE MERCHANT 

/fntb. Let him alone i 
ril follow him no more with bootlefs prayers J 
He feeks my life ; his reafon well I know : 
I oft delivered from his forfeitures 
Many that have at times made moan to me# 
Therefore he hates me. 

Sola. I am fure, the duke 
Will never grant this forfeiture to hold. 

Jnth. The duke cannot deny the courfc of law j^ 
For the commodity that ftrangers have 
With us in -Venice, if it be deny*d. 
Will much impeach the juftice of the date % 
Since that the trade and profit of the city 
Confiftcth of all nations. Therefore go; 
Thefc griefs and loffcs have fo 'bated mc. 
That I (hall hardly fpare a pound of flelh 
To-morrow to my bloody creditor. — 
Well, gaoler, on — Pray God, Baflanio come 
To fee me pay his debt, and then I care not ! [Exeunt^ 

SCENE IV. 

BELMONT. 
Enter Portia^ l^erijfa, Lorenzo, J^J^ca^ ^^d Balthazif. 

Lcr. Madam, although I fpeak it in your prefence, 
You have a noble and a true conceit 
Of God-like amity ; which appears mod ftrongly 
In bearing thus the abfencc of your lord. 
But if you knew to whom you (hew this honour^ 

y Tbiduie cannct dery^ &c. — ] As the reafon here given feent 
a little perplexed, it may be proper to explain it. If, fays he, 
the duke flop the courfe of law it will be attended widi this in- 
convenience, that ftranger merchants, by whom the wealth and 
power of this city is fupported, will cry out of injaftice. Fot 
the known dated law being their guide and fecurity, they will 
never bear to have the current of it flopped on any pretence «f 
equity whatfoever. Warburton. 

How 



OF VfiNICE. 17^ 

' true a gentleman you fend relief, 
dear a lover of my lord your hufband, 
)w, you would be prouder of the work, * 
I cuftomary bounty can enforce you. 
r. I never did repent of doing good, 
(hall not now : for in companions 
do conveffe and wafte the time together, 
fe Ibuls do bear an equal yoke of love, 
e muft needs be a like proportion 
neaments, of manners, and offpirit; ^ 
ch makes me think, that this Anthonio, 
r the bofom-lovcr of my lord, 
; needs be like my lord. If it be fo, 
little is the coft I have beftow'd, 

^fi fnh do hear an equal yoke^ &c ] The fdio i623» 
^tfA which I believe in Shakefpeare's time was commonly 
»r tfuaL So it was in Chaucer's. 

** I will prefume hym &> to dignifie 

" Yet be not egaii.*' Prol. to the Remedy of Love. 
Sorboduc : 

** Sith all as one do bear you ega/I faith." Ste evens* 

flwamenth o/manuers^ &c— ] The wrong pointing has 
Jus fine fentiment nonfenfe. As implying that friendfhip 
lOC only make a fimilitude of manners, but oifmces. The 
!o/e is, lintMmentt •/ mamnirs^ i. e. form of the moRmrs^ 
. (ays the fpeaker^ mofl need be proportionate. 

WAaBURTOM. 

poet only means to fay, that com/ponding prcporttons of 
d mind are ntceJI'ary for thofe nuho fend their time together, 
one will allow that the friend of a toper ihould have a 
bead, and the intimate of a fportfman fuch an athletic 
ition as will enable him to acquit himfelf with reputation 
rxercifes of the field. The word Jineaments was ufcd with 
ixity by onr aneient writers. In *« The learned and true 
on of the Original, Life, &c. of King Arthur, tranflated 
Im Latin of Johki Leland, iqSi,*' it is i»fed for the human 
ia general. Speaking of the removal of that prince''s bones, 
aUs them i^r/^«r'/ iineammts three times tranflated; and 
all the Uneamenes of them remaining in that mofl ftate'^y tbmh^ 
ibt foin hwes of the king and queen^ &rc« St££V£N$. 

L. III. N In 



178 THE MERCHANT 

In purchafing the fcmWancc of my foul 

From out the ftate of hellilh cruelty? 

This comes too near the praifing of myfclf ; » 

Therefore, no more of it. Hear other things. ■■ - 

Lorenzo, I commit into your hands 

The hufbandry and manage of my houfe. 

Until my lord's return. For mine own part, 

I have toward heaven brcath'd a fecret vow, 

To live in prayer and contemplation. 

Only attended by Ncrifla here. 

Until her hufband and my lord's return. 

There is a monaftery two miles off, , 

And there we will abide. 1 do defire you. 

Not to deny this impofition •, 

The which my love, and fome necelEty 

Now lays upon you. 

Lor. Madam, with all my heart ; 
I fhall obey you in all fair commands. 

Por. My people do already know my mind^ 
' And will acknowledge you and Jeflica 
In place of lord Baffanio and myfeJf. 
So fare you well, till we (hall meet again. 

Lor, Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you! 

Jef. I wifh your ladyfhip all heart's content. 

Por. I thank you for your wi(h, and am well plcas'd 
To wilh it back on you : fare you well, Jeflica. 

[ Exeunt J ef. and Lsr. 
Now, Balthazar, 

" This comes too near^ &c.] In former editions. 

This conns too near the praifing ofmyftlf\ * 

There/ore no more of it ; here other things, 
Lorenzo, I commit, &c. 
Portia finding the reflcdions (he had made came too nearfetf- 
praife, begins to chide herfelf for it ; fays. She'll fay no iDOf« 
of that fort ; but call a new fubjeft. The regulation I ba** 
made in the text was likcwife prcfcrib'd by Dr. Thirlby. 

ThbobaiP' 

M 



OF VENICE. 179 

I have ever found thee honeft, true, 
let me find thee ftill : Take this fame letter, 
d ufe thou all the endeavour of a man, 
fpeed to Padua; fee thou render this 
> my coufin*s hand, doftor Bcllario j 
d, look, what notes and garments he doth give 

thee, 
)g them, I pray thee, with imagined fpeed 
:o the Trajcft, ^ to the common ferry 
ich trades to Venice : waftc no time in words, 
get thee gone j I fhall be there before thee. 
>aUb. Madam, I go with all convenient fpeed. 

W. Come on, Neriffa, I have work in hand. 
It you yet know not of: we'll fee our hufbands, 
ore they think of us. 
^er. Shall they fee us ? 

V. They (hall, Nerifla 5 but in fuch a habit, 
at they (hall think we are accompliftied 
th what we lack. I'll hold thee any wager, 
icn we are both apparcH'd like young n>;en, 
prove the prettier fellow of the two, 
i wear my dagger with the braver grace ; 
i fpeak between the change of man and boy, 
th a reed voice ; and turn two mincing fteps 
) a manly ftride, and fpeak of frays, 

Jn fpeed t-i Mantaa :] Thus all the old copies; and tKps all 
modern editors implicitly after them. But 'tis evident to 
diligent reader, that we muft re (lore, as I have done. In fpeed 
idua : for it was there, and not at Mantua, Bcllario liv'd. 
fteru'ards; — A MfffengVy ivi h letters from /i&# Dodtor, nono 

from Pad U.I And again, Come you from Padua, from Bet" 

f' And again, // comes from Padua, from Biila'io.^^-^Bc^ 
, Padua, not Mantua^ is the place of education for the civil 
in Italy. Theobald. 

Unto the Trajcl,'] The old copies concur in reading, Unt9 
rrann% which appears to be derived from tranare, and was 
probably a word current in the time of our author. 

ST£tVENS. 

N 2 Like 



iU THfe MERCHAJJT 

Like a fine bragging youth : and tell quaint H«^ 

How honourable ladies fought my k>vc. 

Which I denying, they fell fick and dy'd ; 

I could not do with all : — then Til repent. 

And wi(b, for all that, that I had not kiird them. 

And twenty of thefe piiny lies Til lelJ, 

That men ihall fwear, I havedifcontinued (chool 

Above a twelvemonth, I have in my mind 

A thoufand raw tricks of thefe bragging Jacks, 

Which I will pradtife. 

Ner. Why, Ihall we turn to men ? 

For, Fie, what a queftion's that^ 
If thou wert near a lewd interpreter ? 
But come, V\\ tell thee all my whole device 
When I am in my coach ; which ftays for us 
At the park- gate 5 and therefore hade away. 
For we mufl meafure twenty miles to-day, [Exewit. 

SCENE V. 
Enifr Launcelot and J^ca. 

Laun. Yes, truly : — for, look you, the fins of the 
father are to be laid upon the children ; therefore, I 
promife you, I fear you. I was always plain with, 
you ; and fo now 1 fpeak my agitation of the matter: 
Therefore be of good cheer ; for, truly, I think, you 
are damnM. There is but one hope in it that can do 
you any good/; and that is but a kind of a baftard 
hope neither. 

Jef. And what hope is that, I pray thee ? 

Laun. Marry, you may partly hope that your fa^ 
thergot you not, tnat you arc not the Jew*s daughter. 

Jef. That were a kind of baftard hope, indeed. So 
jhefinsof my mother Ihall be vifited upon me. 

Laun. Truly, then, I fear, you are damn'd both by" 
father, and mother : thus when I (bun Scylla, your 

father^ 



O F V E N I C R. i8i 

father, I fall into CharybUis, your mother: well, 
you are gone both ways. 

7^ I (hall be faved by my hulband ; he hath made 
me aChriftian. 

Laun. Truly,' the more to blame he : wc were 
Chriftians enough before, e'en as many as could well 
live one by another : This making of Chriftians will 
jraife the price of hogs : if we grow all to be pork* 
caters, we (hall not fhortly have a ralher on the coals 
for mony. 

E^Ur Lorenzo. 

Jef, V\l tell my huft)and, Launcelot, what you 
lay : Here he comes. 

Lor. i fliall grow jealous of you (hortly, Launcelot, 
if you thus get my wife into corners. 

Jif. Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo ; Laun- 
celot and I are out : he tells me flatly, there is no 
mercy for me in heaven, becaufe I am a Jew's daugh- 
ter : and he fays, you arc no good member of the 
commonwealth •, for, in converting Jews to Chrifti- 
ans, you raifethc price of pork. 

Lor, I (hall anfwer that better to the common- 
^wealth, than you can the getting up of the negro's 
belly : the Mocr is with child by you, Launcelot, 

Laun. It is much, ^ that the Moor ftiould be more 
than reafbn : but if (he be lefs than an honeft wonfian, 
ihe is, indeed, more than 1 took her for. 

Lor. How every fool can play upon the word ! f 
think, the beft grace of wit will ftiortly turn into 
filcnce ; and difcourfe grow commendable in none 
Iwt parrots. Go in, firrah ; bid them prepare for 
dinner. 

♦ // it much that the lAooit JbouU he more, £sfr.] This brings 
<o Qiod the quibbling epigram of Milton, which has no higher 
degree of liamoar to boaft of. 

GM ex concubitu gravidam te Pont t a Mori 

Quis bene moratam merigeratiK^Mt negat ? Ste evens* 

N 3 Laun. 



i82 THE MERCHANT 

Laun. That is done, fir ; they have all ftomachs. 

Lor. Goodly lord, what a wit-fnapper arc you! 
then bid them prepare dinner. 

l^aun. That is done too, fir; only, cover is the 
word. 

Lor. Will you cover then, fir ? 

Laun. Not fo, fir, neither •, I know my duty. 

Lor. Yet more quarrelling with occafion ! wilt thoa 
Ihcw the whole wealth of thy wit in an inftant ? I pray 
thee undcrftand a plain man in his plain meaning : ga 
to thy fellows ; bid them cover the table, fcrve in 
the meat, and we will come in to dinner. 

Laun. For the table, fir, it fliall be ferv*d in ; for 
the meat, fir, it ftiall be covered •, for your coming 
in to dinner, fir, why, let it be as humours andcont 
ceits fliall govern, [Exif Laun. 

Lor. O dear difcretion, how his words are fujtcd ! * 
The fool hath planted in his memory 
An army of good words ; And I do know 
A many fools that (land in better place, 
Garnifli'd like him, that for a trickfy word 
Defy the matter. How far'fl: thou, Jeflica f 
And now, good fweet, fay thy opinion. 
How doft thou like the lord Baflanio's wife? 

Jef. Pad all exprefling : It is very meet. 
The lord BaflTanio live an upright life ; 
For, having fuch a blefllng in his lady. 
He finds the joys of heaven here on earth : 
And, if on earth he do not mean it, then 
In reafon, he fliould never come to heaven. 
'Why, if two Gods fhould play fome heavenly matcb^ 
And on the wager lay two earthly women, 
^nd Portia one, there muft hi fomething clfe 

' Hoiv bisivords are/uifed."] I believe the meaning is: Wh»^ 
^ ffnts or fuite of njoords he has independent of meaning ; how 
0]ne y^ofd 4ra\ys on another without relation to the matter. 

Johnson. 



O F V E N I C E. 183 

Pawned with the other •, for the poor rude world 
Hath Bot her fellow. 

Jjtnr. Even fuch a hufband 
Haft thou of me, as (he is for a wife. 

Jtf. Nay, bujc aflc my opinion too of that. 

Lor. I will anon. Firft, let us go to dinner. 
. Jif. Nay, let mc praife you, while 1 have a fto- 
mach. 

Lor. No, pray thee, let it fervc for table-talk; 
Then, howfoe'er thou fpeak'ft, *mong other things, 
I ihall digeft it. 

Jtf. Well, rUfet you forth. \Exeunt. 



A C T IV. S C E N E I. 

^ht Senate-boufe in Venice. 

^ier the Duke^ the Senators -, Antbonio^ Bajpfnio^ Qra^ 
tiano, and others. 



Dv 



K E. 



WHAT, is Anthonio here? 
Antb. Ready, fo pleafe your grace. 

Duke. Vm forry for thee -, thou art come to anfwer 
A ftony adverfary, an inhuman wretch 
Uncapablc of pity, void and empty 
From any dram of mercy. 

Antb. I have heard. 
Your Grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify 
His rigorous courfe ; but fince he ftands obdurate. 
And that no lawful means can carry mc 
Out of his envy's reach, I do oppofe 
My patience to his fury-, and am arm'd 
To luffer, with a quietnefs of fpirit. 
The very tyranny and rage of his. 

N^4 Duke. 



i84 THE MERCHANT 

Duki. Go one, and call the Jew into the court 
Sal. He's ready at the door : be cooiety mj lord. 

^tcr Shjhek. 

Duke. Make rooori, and let him fland bcfoit our 
face. — 
Sbylock, the world thinks, and I think fo too^ 
That thou but leaded this fafhion of thy malice 
To the laft hour of aA; and then, 'ds thought, 
Thou'lt (hew thy mercy, and rcmorfe, more itrai^ 
Than is thy ftrange apparent ^ cruelty. 
And, ^ where thou now exad'ft the penalty. 
Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flefb. 
Thou wilt not only lofe the forfeiture. 
But, touch'd with human ^ntlenels and love. 
Forgive a moiety of the pnncipal ; 
Glancing an eye of pity on his lodes. 
That have of late fo huddled on his back, 
I Enough to prefs a royal merchant down. 

And 

• apfartut ] That is, feming ; not real. Johivsov. 
^ nubere {ox nnbtrias. Johmson. 

• Enough to prefs a rtyal merchant io^ssn^"] We are not to ima- 
gine the word royal to foe only a ranting fonndiig epithet. It ii 
ufed with great propriety, and (hews the poet well acqnaiattd 
with the hiftor}' of the people whom he here brings upon the ftage. 
For when the French and the Venetiaas, in the begmniHg of the 
thirteenth century, had won Conftantifiople, the French, uadff 
the emperor Henry, endeavoured to extend their conquers vi^ 
the provinces of the Grecian empire on the terra fij-ma ; while 
the Venetians, who were mafiers of the fea, gave liberty to any 
fubje^l of the republic, who would fit out vefTels, to make them- 
felvei maftcri of the ifles of the Archipelago, and other maritijiir 
places ; and to enjoy their cooquefls in iovereiend^ ; only doing 
lioma^ to the republick for their feveral pnncipalities. By vir- 
tue of this licence, the Sanudo's. the JaUiniani, the Grimaldi. 
the Summaripo's, and others, all Venetian mercbam^j, crtAej 
principalities in iieveral places of the Archipelago, (which their 
defcendants enjoyed for many generations) and thereby biKanm 
truly and properly roja! merchants. Which indeed was the title 
generally given them all over Ettf<>pe« Hence, the mod ttnkieiit 

of 



O F V E N I C E. I8J 

And pluck commileration of his fiate 

From brafly bofoms, and rough hearts of flint ; 

From ftubborn Turks, and Tartars, never trained 

To offices of tender courtefy. 

Wcall cxpe6k a gentle anfwer, Jew, 

Shy* I have poflcfs'd your Grace of what I purpofc | 
And by our holy Sabbaih ^ have I fworn. 
To have the due and forfeit of my bond. 
If you deny it, let the danger light 
Upon your charter, and your city's freedom, 
Youll afk me, why I rather chul'c to have 
A weight of carrion flefh, than to receive 
Three thoufand ducats : I'll not anfwer that ; ' 
But, fay, it is my humour ; Is it anfwer*d ? 
VVhat if my houfe be troubled with a rat. 
And I be pleas'd to give ten thoufand ducats 
Tohave it bancd? What, are you anfwer'dyet? 

pf oar own merchants f while public fplrit refided amongft them» 
ud before it was aped by fadion) were called royal mirchams. 

Warburtok. 
This epithet was in our poet*s time more (Irlking and better un- 
^erllood, becaufe GreOiam was then commonly dignified with the 
&le of the royal mircbani. Johnson. 

■ — ^/W NOT s^f^tur that. 

But /4^% it is wy ^iGWtf^r.— ] 
Tliii Jew is the Itraa^eft fellow. He is aiked a queftion ; iayshe 
vitt not anfwer it ; in the yttty next line fays» he has anfwered 
% and then ^nds the ten following lines to juftify and explain 
1^ tfifwer. Who can doubt then, but we (hould read, 

——/*// NOW anpwer that^ 

Br SAY IV Gt *tu my humour, Warbvrtok. 

Dr. WarbQiton has miftaken the fenfe. The Jew being aflced 
^queftion which the law does not require him to anfwer, ftands 
vponUirifiht, and remfes; but afterwards gratifies his own ma* 
Kgvity by fach anfwers as he knows will aggravate the pain of 
^c cnqiiher. I will not anfwer, fays he, as to a legal or fiujous 
^BcSioii, but fince you want an anfwer, will this ferve you f 

Johnson. 

Some 



i86 THE MERCHANT 

Some men there are, love not a gaping pig ; * 
Some, that are mad, if they behold a cat ; 
A«d others, when the bag-pipe fmgs i* the nofe, 
Cannot contain their urine. For afFeftion, ' 
Matters of paffion, fway it to the mood 

» • a gaping pig 5] So in Webfter's Dotchcfs of Malfy> 

1623 ; 

«* He could not abide to fee a/?^'/ htaJ gaping; 
'* I jthought your grace would find him out a Jew." 

STEiVESS* 

3 Cannot contain their urine, &c.] Mr. Rowc rpads. 
Cannot contain their urint fir afftilion. 
M^erlefs paflion fways it to tbt mood 
Ofiuhat it likejy orloatbs. 
Mafterlefs pajjion Mr, Pope has fince copied. I don't know wlut 
word there is to which this relative // is to be referred. Dr^T^iit 
by would thus adjuft the pafTage, 

Cannot contain their urine ; for aJfuQion^ 
Mailer of paffion, fivayt it, i^c. 

And then it is govern'd of pajfion : and the two old quarto's tti 

folio's read— , MsiUfrs of paj^on, &c. 

It may be objected, that affeaion 2in^ paffion mean the fame thing* 
But I obferve, the writers of our author's age made a difHadioAr 
as Jonfon in Sejanus : 

He hath Jludiei 

Affeftion's paffions, knonus their fpringt and ends. 
And then, in this place, affeSiion will ftand for ^2X fympoAj ^ 
eintipathy of foul, by which we are provok'd to (hew ^liki9i^ 
dtfguft in the working of our pajpom, Theobald. 

Mafterlefs fajjion ftjuays it to the mcod.l The two old J^WJtP*' 
and folio read, 

Masters of pajfion* 
And this is certainly right. He is fpeaking of the power of foo»i 
over the human affeftions, and concludes, very naturally, tbattk« 
mafters of paffion (for fo he finely calls the muficians) fway thcjprf* 
fions or affeftions as they pleafe. Alluding to what the ancieBtl 
tell us of the feats that Timotheus and other muficians workedbf 
the^ower of mufic. Can any thing be more natural ! 

Warbuitoh. 

of 



OF V E N I C £• • 187 

Df what It likes, or loaths. Now, for your anfwer. 

As there is no firm rcafon to be rendered, 

Why he cannot abide a gaping pig; 

Why he, a harofilels ncceffary cat ; 

^ Why he, a woollen bag- pipe ; but of force 

^ IFhy bit a wocUift bag-pipe.] This incident ShakcTpeare 
!ccms to have taken from J. (J. Scaligcr's Exot. Exercii. againft 
[Cardan. A book that oar author was well read in, and much 
ndebted to for a great deal of his phyiics ; it being then mnck 
In vogue, and indeed is excellent, though now long iince foi^goc. 
En his 344 Exercit. fefl. 6. he has thefe words, Narrmt^ $umciiSi 
'0C0/am Sympachiam Reguli Vafconis equith. Is dum 'vi'verct audito 
^hmrwnngis J'ono^ urinam illico facen cogehaiur, ■ And to make 
this jocular ilory (lill more ridiculous, Shakefpeare, I fuppofe, 
trzndztcd phormifix by ^ag'fifes. But what J. would chiefly ob- 
ferve fix>m hence is this, that as Scaliger ufes the word Sjfnpathiam 
which figniiies, and fo he interprets it, communem affbctioneu 
dmahuM rehus, fo Shakefpeare tranflates it by affbctiok; 

Cannot contain ibeir urine for affection. 
Which (hews the truth of the preceding emendation of the ttxt 
according to the old copies ; which have a full flop at afflSion^ 
and read Mafttrs ofpajjton. Warburton. 

As for affeSlion^ thofe that know how to operate upon the paf* 
. Sons of men, rule it by making it operate in obedience to the 
notes which pleafe or difgufl it. Johnson. 

Jn ap old tranflation from the French of Peter de Loier, iiui- 
ded, A Treatife of SpeArcs, or flraunge Sights, Vifions, &c. 
we have this identical ilory from Scaliger ; and what is Aill more, 
a iparginal note gives us in all probability the very frift alluded to, 
as well as the ^ord of Shakefpeare. " Another gentleman of 
" tlys quality lived of late in Devon, neere Excefter, who could 
** not endure the playing on a ba^-pipeJ** We may juft add, as 
feme obfervation has been made upon it, that affection in the 
fenfe oi jympaihy, was formerly technical \ and fo ufed by Lord 
Bacon, fir K. Digby, and many other writers. Farmer. 

Woollen hag pipe,] As all the editors agree with complete uni- 
formity in this reading, I can hardly forbear to imagine that they 
nnderftood it. But 1 never faw a luocUen bag-pipe., nor can well 
conceive it. I fuppofe the authour wrote "^toodin bag-pipe, mean- 
ing that the bag was of leather, and the pipe of wood, 

Johnson. 
This pafTage is clear from all difficulty, if we xtTid f- xjelling bag* 
ffftf wluch, that we fbould, I have pot theleafl doubt. 

Hawrjns. 

Myft 



i8S rHE MERCHANT 

Muft yield to fuch inevitable (hamc. 

As to oflfend, himfelf being offended ; 

So can I give no reafon^ nor 1 will noc. 

More than a lodg*d hate and a certain loathing 

I bear Anthonio, that I follow thus 

A loGng fuit againft him. Are you anfwer'd ? 

Bajf. This is no anfwer, thou unfeeling man. 
To excufe the current of thy cruelty. 

Shy. I am not bound to pleafe thee with my lOr 
fwers. 

BaJf. Do all men kill the thing they do not loft? 

Shy. Hates any man the thing he would not kill? 

BaJf. Every offence is not a hate at firff . 

Shy. What, would'ft thou have a ferpent ding dM« 
twice ? 

Antb. I pray you, think, you queftion with ^ 
Jew. 
You may as well go ffand upon the beach. 
And bid the main flood 'bate his ufual height. 
You may as well ufe queftion with the wolf. 
Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb. 
You may as well forbid the mountain pines 
To wag their hij^h tops, and to make no noifc. 
When they are fretted with the gufts of heaven. 
You may as well do any thing moft hard. 
As fcek to foften that, (than which what's harder?) 
His Jewifti heart : — Therefore, 1 do befeech you, 
Make no more offers, ufe no farther means j 
But, with ail brief and plain conveniency 
Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will. 

BaJf. For thy three thoufand ducats here is fix. 

Shy. If every ducat in fix thoufand ducats 
Were in fix parts, and every part a ducat, 
I would not draw them, I would have my bond. 

Duke. How ftialt thou hope for mercy, rendering 
none ? 

Shy. What judgmentfhall I dread, doing no wrong? 

7 You 



O F V E N I C E. 189 

ou have among you many a purchased (lave, ^ 
^hich, like your afTes, and your dogs, and mules, 
ou ufe in abjed and in flavifh parts, 
ecaufe you bought them. Shall I fay to you, 
ct them be free, marry them to your heirs ? 
/hy fweat they under burdens ? let their beds 
e made as foft as yours, and let their palates 
efeafon'd with fuch viands ? you will anfwer, 
'he flaves arc ours : — So do I anfwer you. 
*he pound of fiefh, which I demand of him, 
(dearly bought, is mine, and I will have it. 
'you deny me, fie upon your law ! 
here is no force in the decrees of Venice, 
ftaod for judgment. Anfwer ; ftiall I have it ? 
Dxie. Upon my power I may difmifs this court, 
Dirls Bellario, a learned doctor, ^ 
Ihom I have fent for to determine this, 
}me here to-day. 

Sal. My lord, here ftays, without, 
mefienger with letters from the doctor, 
cw come from Padua. 

Duke. Bring us the letters-, call the meffenger. 
Baffl Good cheer, Anthonio ! What, man ? cou- 
rage yet ! 
he Jew Ihall have my flefh, blood, bones^ and all, 
re thou (halt lofe for me one drop of blood. 
Jnib. I am a tainted weather of the Rock, 

' AUtn pur(bai*djlavi.'\ This argument confidered as ufed to 
\ paracular perfons, feems conclufive. I fee not how Venetians 
Engliibnieny while they pradlife the purchafe and fale of ilaves, 
11 ffloch enforce or demand the law of doing to otbti s as au< *u;oulJ 
If ibyflf$uUi do t9us. Johnson. 

* BetUrio^ a leafmd io6lor^ 

Wbm I hmvi/iHtfor ] 

he doAor and the court are here fomewhat unfkilfully brought 
gcther. That the duke would, on fach an occafion, confult a 
tdorof great reputation, is not unlikely, but how fhould this 
: foreknown by Portia? Johnson. 

Mcetcft 



I9S THE MERCHANT 

Meetcft for death : the weakeft kind of fruit 
Drops earlieft to the ground, and fo letmc. 
You cannot better be employed, -Baffanio, 
Than to live ftill, and write mine epitaph. 

Enter Nerifaj drefs^d like a lawyer's clerk. 

Duke. Came you from Padua, from Bellario? 

Ner. From both, my lord. Bellario greets youf 
grace. 

Baff. W hy doft thou whet thy knife fo earneftly ? 

Siby. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt 
there. 

Gra. 7 Not on thy foal, but on thy foul, harfli Jcvr^ 
Thou mak'ft thy knife keen : but no metal can. 
No, not the hangman's ax, bear half the kcenncfs 
Of thy fharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee ? 

Shy. No, none that thou haft wit enough to makc# 

Gra, O, be thou damn'd, inexorable dog. 
And for thy life let jufticc be accusM ! 
Thou almoft mak'ft me waver in my faith. 
To hold opinion with Pythagoras, 
That fouls of animals infufe themfelves 
Into the trunks of men. Thy currifli fpirit 
Governed a wolf, who, hang'd for human flaughtcri 
Even from the gallows did his fell foul fleet. 
And, whilftthou lay'ftinthy unhallowed dam, 
Infus'd itfelf in thee ; for thy defires 
Arc wolfifli, bloody, ftarv'd, and ravenous. 

,Shy, 'Till thou can'ft rail the feal from off my bond, 
Thou but oiTtnd'ft thy lungs to fpeak fo loud: 
Repair tliy wit, good youth, or it will fall 

7 N>t 0- thy/caU hut on thyfculj harff? JnuJ] This loft jlDflf 
Mr. Theobald found again; but knew not what to make of H 
when he had it, as appears by his paraphrafe, TLo* tb9u thiwkt^ 
that th.u an iK^hetting thy knift on the foal cf thy Jhot^ yet it isMf^ 
thy fmU ihy in mortal part, Abfurd 1 the COnccit is, that hia W 
was fo hard that it had given an ^Ag^ to his knife. 

Warbvrtoic. 

To 



O F V E N I C E. 191 

"ocurelefs ruin.— I ftand here for law. 

Duke. This letter from Bellario doth commend 
k. young and learned dodor to our court.—— 
Vhcre is he? 

Ner. He attendeth here hard by 
"o know your anfwer, whether you'll admit him. 

Duke. With all my heart. Some three or four of 

you 
logive him courteous conduct to this place :— 
\/[can time, the court fhall hear Bcllario*s ktter. 

Y^OU R Grace Jhall underfiand^ that^ at the receipt 
of your letter^ I am very fick: but at the inftant 
that your mejfenger came^ in losing vifitation was with 
me a young doSor of Rome^ his name is Baltbafar : lac- 
juainted kim with the caufe in controverfy between the Jew 
and Anthonio the merchant. We twtCd o'er many books 
together : he is furnijh^d with my opinion -, which^ bet* 
ttred with his own learnings {the greatnefs whereof Ican^ 
not enough commend^) comes with him at my importunity^ 
to Jill up your Grace's requeft in my ftead. I befeech you^ 
Ut his lack of years be no impediment, to let him lack a 
fever end ejiimrjion: for I never kntw fa young a body 
wb fo old a head. I leave him to ycur gracious ac- 
(tptance^ wkofe trial fhall better publifb^his commendation. 

Enter Portia, drefs^d like a doctor of laws. 

Duhe. You hear the learn'd Bellario what he writes; 
And here, I take it, is the doftor come. 
—Give me your hand. Came you from old Bellario ? 

Por. I did, my lord. 

Duke. You arc welcome : take your place. 
Arc you acquainted with the difference, 
That holds this prefent queftion in the court ? 

Por. I am inforrped throughly of the caufe. 
Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew ? 

Duke. Anthonio and old Shylock, both ftand forth. 

Por. Is your name Shylock ? 



ig^ THE MERCHANT 

Sby. Shylock is my name. 

Per. Of a ftrangc nature is the fuit you follow ; 
Yet in fuch rule, that the Venetian law 
Cannot impugn you, as you do proceed. 
—You ftand within his danger, do you not ? 

[To Antbj 

Anth. Ay, fo he fays. 

For. Do you confefs the bond ? 

Anth. I do. 

For. Then muft the Jew be merciful. 

Sby. On what compulfion muft I ? tell me that. 

Tor. The quality of mercy is not ftrain'd ; 
It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven 
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blefs'd ) 
It blefleth him that gives, and him that takes: 
*Ti6 mightieil in the mightieft *, it becomes 
The throned monarch better than his crown : 
His fccpter Ihews the force of temporal power, 
The attribute to awe and majefty. 
Wherein doth fit the dread and fear of kings ; 
But mercy is above this fcepter'd fway. 
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings : 
It is an attribute to God himfelf ; 
And earthly power doth then fhew likeft God's, 
When mercy feafons juftice. Therefbre, Jew, 
Tho' juftice be thy plea, confider this, — 
That in the courfe of juftice none of us 
Should fee falvation. We do pray for mercy \ 
And that fame prayer doth teach us all to render 
The deeds of mercy. 1 have fpoke thus much 
To mitigate the juftice of thy plea ; 
Which, if thou follow, this ftrid court of Venice 
Muft needs give fentence 'gain ft the merchant there. 

Sby. My deeds upon my head ! I crave the law, 
The penalty and forfeit o/my bond. 
Per. Is he not able to difcharge the mony ? 



OF VENICE. 193 

If. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court ; 

twice the fum : if that will not fuffice, 
I he bound to pay it ten times o'er, 
)rfeit of my hands, my head, my heart. 
is will not fuffice, it muft appear 
malice bears down truth. * And I befeech you, 
konce the law to your authority. 
D a great right, do a little wrong ; 
:urb this cruel devil of his will. 
r. It muft not be ; there is no power in Venice, 
Iter a decree cftabliflied : 
L be recorded tor a precedent; 
nany an error, by the fame example^ 
rufli into the ftate : — It cannot be. 
. A Daniel come to judgment ! yea, a Daniel. 
e young judge, how do I honour thee ! 
\ I pray you, let me look upon the bond. 
. Here 'tis, moft reverend dodlor, here it is. 
. Shylock, there's thrice thy mony ofFcr'd 

thee. 
. An oaih, oath, — I have an bath in heaven : 
[ lay perjury upon my foul ? 
lot for Venice. 
. Why, this bond is forfeit ; 
awfully by this the Jew may claim 
md of flclh, to be by him cut off 
ft the merchant's heart. Be merciful ; 
thrice thy moriy, bid nic tear the bond. 

When it is paid according to the tenour. — 
h appear you are a worthy judge j 
:now the law ; your expofition 
been moft found I charge you by the law, 
eof you are a well deferving pillar, 
cd to judgment. By my foul I fwear, 

ri!rV# htars Jown truth, "] Malice opprcfles lioncfty, a trui 
old language is an bonejt man. We now call the jurygcpJ 
Urue. Jo a K SON. 

L. III. O thcr€ 



194 THE MERCHANT 

There is no power in the tongue of man 
To alter me: I ftay here on my bond. 

Antb. Moft heartily I do bcfccch the court 
To give the judgment. 

Per. Why, then thus it is : 
You muft prepare your bofom for his knife. 

Shy. O noble judge ! O excellent young man! 

Por. For the intent and purpofe of the law 
Hath full relation to the penalty. 
Which here appeareth due upon the bond. 

Shy. 'Tis very true. O wife and upright judge! 
How much more elder art thou than thy looks \ 

Por. Therefore lay bare your bofom. 

Shy. Ay, his breaft; 
So fays the bond -, doth it not, noble judge ? 
Neareft his heart, thofe are the very words. 

Por. It is fo. Arc there balance here to weigh the 
flelh ? 

Shy. I have them ready. 

Por. Have by fome furgeon, Shylock, on your 
charge, 
To flop his wounds, left he Ihould bleed to death. 

Shy. Is it fo nominated in the bond ? 

Por. It is not fo exprefs'd ; but what of that ? 
*Twcre good, you do fo much for charity. 

Shy. 1 cannot find it ; *tis not in the bond. 

Por. Come, merchant, have you any thing to fty ? 

jinth. But little : I am arm*d, and well prepar'i 

Give me your hand, Baflfanio, fare yc well ! 

Grieve nor, that I am fallen to this for you ; 
For herein fortune Ihews herfelf more kind. 
Than is her cuftom. It is ftill h<?r ufe. 
To let the wretched man out-live his wealth. 
To view with hollow eye, and wrinkled brow. 
An age of poverty ; from which lingering penance 
Of fuch a mifery doth fhe cut me off. 
Commend me to your honourable wife ; 



t V fe N i C E. 195 

ill her the procefs of Anthonio's end; 

IT, how I lov'd you ; fpeak me fair in death ^ 

id when the tale is told, bid her be judge, 

bether Baflanio had not once a love. 

pent not you^ that you (hall lofe your friend^ 

id he repents not, thit he pays your debt ; 

r, if the Jew do cut but deep enough, 

pay it inftantly with all my heart. 

^ajlf. Anthonio, I am married to a wife^ 

lich is as dear to me as life itfelf ; 

t life itfelfi my wife, and all the world, 

J not with me efteem'd above thy life. 

rould lofe all *, ay, facrifice them all 

re to this devil, to deliver you. 

V. Your wife would give you little thanks for 

that, 
lie were by, to hear you make the offer. 
7ra. I have a wife, whom, I proteft, I love : 
'ould, flie were in heaven, fo (he could 
rest fome power to change this currilh Jew. 
Vir. *Tis well, you offer it behind her back ; 
e wiih would make elfe an unquiet houfe. 
]iy. Thefe be the Chriftian hufbands. I have ^ 

daughter ; 
ould, any of the ftock of Barrabas 
d been her huiband, rather than a Chriftian ! 

[4fide: 
7fc trifle time ; I pray thee, purfue fentence. 
Per, A pound of that fame merchant's flefli is 

thine, 
le court awards it, and the law doth give it. 
Sly. Moft rightful judge ! 
Per. And you muft cut this fiefh from off his breaft^ 
be law. allows it, and the court awards ic. 
%. Moft learned judge ! — A fentence j — come, 

prepare. 
Ppr. Tarry a little;— there is ibmething elfe.— — 
O a This 



196 THE MERCHANT 

This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood ; 
The words cxprefly are, a pound of flelh. 
Then take thy bond, take thou thy pound of flcflij 
But, in the cutting it, if thou doft flied 
One drop of Chrillian blood : thy lands and goods 
Are, by the laws of Venice, confifcatc 
Unto the ftate of Venice. 

Gra. O upright judge ! — Mark, Jew; — O learned 
judge ! 

Shy. h that the law ? 

Per. Thyfclf (halt fee the aft : 
For, as thou urged juftice, be aflur'd. 
Thou (halt have juftice, more than thou defirfl, 

Gra. O learned judge I — Mark, Jew — ^a learned 
judge! 

Shy. I take this offer then ; — pay the bond thrice, 
And let the Chriftian go. 

BaJJ. Here is the mony. 

Por. Soft ; 
The Jew (hall have all juftice-, — foft ! — no haftc— 
He (hall have nothing but the penalty. 

Gra. O Jew! an upright judge, a learned jodgc! 

Por. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flclh. 
Shed thou no blood ; nor cut thou lefs, nor more, 
But juft a pound of flcfh : if thou tak*ft more 
Or Id's, than juft a pound, be it but fo much 
As makes it light or heavy in the fubftance. 
On the divifion of the twentieth part 
Of one poor fcruple; nay, if the fcale turn 
But in theeftimation of a hair. 
Thou dieft, and all thy goods are confifcatc. 

Gra. . A fecond Daniel, a Daniel, Jew I 
—Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip, 

Por. Why doth the Jew paufc? take .thy for- 
feiture. 

Sby. Give me my principal, and let me go. 

Bajf. I have it ready for thee ; here it is. 

Por. He hath r-efus'd it in the open court ; 

He 



O F V E N I C E. 197 

Ic fliall have merely juftice, and his bond. 

Gra. A Daniel, (till fay I ; a fecond Daniel ! 
thank thee, Jew, for leaching me that word. 

Shy. Shall 1 not barely have my principal ? 

For. Thou flialt have nothing but the forfeiture, 
'0 be fo taken at thy peril, Jew. 

%. Why, then the devil give him good of it ! 
U ftay no longer quedion* 

For. Tarry, Jew; 

he law hath yet another hold on you. 

is enaftcd in the laws of Venice, 
'it be prov'd againft an alien, 
hat, by direft, or indircft attempts 
tc fceks the life of any citizen, 
he party, 'gainft the which he doth contrive, 
lall feize on half his goods ; the other half 
omcs to the privy coffer of the date ; 
nd the offender's life lies in the mercy 
f the Duke only, 'gainft all other voice: 
I which predicament, 1 fay, thou ftand'ft. 
or it appears by manifeft proceedings 
hac indireftly, and direftly too, 
hou haft contrived againft the very life 
f the defendant 5 and thou haft incur'd 
he danger formerly by me rehears'd. 
own, therefore, and beg mercy of the Duke. 
Gra. Beg, that thou may'ft have leave to hang 

thyfclf: 
nd yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the ftate, 
hou haft not left the value of a cord ; 
hcrefore, thou muft be hang*d at the ftate's charge. 

Duke. That thou may'ft fee the difference of our 

fpirit, 
pardon thee thy life before thou alk it. 
or half thy wealth, it is Anthonio's ; 
^he other half comes to the general ftare, 
^hich humblenefs may driv^ unto a fine. 

O 3 Per. 



198 THE MERCHANT 

Por. Ay, for the ftate; not for Anthonio. 

Shy. Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that? 
You take my houfe, when you do take the prop 
That doth fuftain my houfe ; you take my life, 
When you do take the means whereby I live. 

Por. What mercy can you render him, Anthonio? 

Gra. A halter gratis; nothing elfe, for God's fake. 

Jnth. So pleale my lord the dqke, and all the 
court. 
To quit the fine for one half of his goods ^ 
I am content, ^ fo he will let me have 
The other half in ufe, to render it 
Ppon his death unto the gentleman. 
That lately dole his daughter. 
Two things provided more, — That for this favour 
He prefently become a Chiiflian ; 
The other, that he do record a gift. 
Here in the court, of all he dies poflefsM, 
Unto his fon Lorenzo and his daughter. 

Luke. He fhall do this ; or elfe I do recant 
The pardon that I late pronounced here. 

Por. Art thou contented, Jew ? what doft thou fay? 

Shy, I am content. 

Por. Clerk, draw a deed of gift. 

Shy. I pray you, give me leave to go from hence } 
I am not well ; fend the deed after ipe. 
And I will fign it. 

Dukf. Get thee gone, but do it. 

Gra, In chriftening thou (halt have two godfathers: 
l^ad I been judge, thou fhould'tt have had ten morti' 

^ I am content, &c.] The terms propofed have been mito*- 
dcrflood. Antonio declares, that as the dokc quits one Wf ^ 
the forfeiture, he is likewife content to abate his claim, ajA^' 
fires not the property but the tt/t or produce only of the half, tvi 
that only for the Jew's life, unlcfs we read, as perhaps is ti^ 
up n my dent h, Johnson. 

s) thou Jf^QuWft have had trn more,] i.e. a jury of /«»^ 

men, to condemn thee to be hanged. TnEOBAtD. 

Tfl 



O F V E N I C E. 199 

To bring thee to the gallows, not the font. 

[E^it Sbykck. 

Duke. Sir^ I intreat you home with me to dinner. 

For. I humbly dodcfire your grace of pardon ; • 
I muft away this night to Padua, 
And it is meet, I prefently fet forth. 

Luke. Fm forry, that your leifure fcr?es you nor. 
— Anthonio, gratify this gentleman ; 
For, in my mind, you are much bound to him. 

[£x// Duke and bis train. 

Bajf Mod worthy gentleman, I, and my friend 
Have by your wifdom been this day acquitted 
Of grievous penalties ; in lieu whereof. 
Three thoufand ducats, due unto the Jew, 
Wc freely cope your courteous pains withal. 

jbtib. And ftand indebted, over and above, 
[fl love and fcrvice to you evermore. 

For. He is well paid, that is well fatisfy'd ; 
And I, delivering you, am latisfy*d. 
And therein do account myfelf well paid ; 
My mind was never yet more mercenary. 
I pray you, know me, when we meet again ; 
I wifli you well, and fo I take my leave. 

Bajf. Dear fir, of force 1 muft attempt you further. 
Take fome remembrance of us, for a tribute. 
Not as a fee. Grant me tvit) things, Ipray you. 
Not to deny me, and to pardon me. 

For. You prefs me far, and therefore I will yield. 
Sive me your gloves. Til wear them for your fake j 
And, for your love. Til take this ring from you. 
[)o not draw back your hand ; Til take no more ; 
And you in love (hall not deny me this. 

Bajf. This ring, good fir, alas, it is a trifle *, 

* g race of pardon ;] Thus the old copiet : the modern 

cditon read, Icfs harfhly, but without authority, -your grants 

}»ion. The fame kind of expreflion occurs in Othello. — I humbly 
^ hifitcb y9u of your pardon. Steevens.' 

O 4 1 will 



!3 



joQ THE MERCHANT 

I will not fhame myfelf to give you this. 

Por, I will have nothing elfe but only this. 
And now, methinks, I have a mind to it. 

Bajf. There's more depends on this, than on fhc 
value. 

The deareft ring in Venice will I give you, ^. 

And find it out by proclamation ; ;* 

Only for this, I pray you^ pardon me. 

Por. I fee, fir, you arc liberal in ofFers : 
Yqu paught me firft to beg, and now, methinks 
You teach me how a beggar fhould be anfwer'd. 

BaJ/. Good fir, this ring was given mc by my ? 
wife-, 
And, when (he put it- on, (he made me vow. 
That I fhguld neither fell, nor give, nor lofc it 

Por. That *fcufe fcrves many men to fave ilicir 
gifts. 
An if your wife be not a mad woman, 
And know how well I have deferv*d this ring, 
She would not hold put enmity forever. 
For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you. 

[pxif with Neriffa- 

j^nth. My lord Baflanio, let him have the ring. 
Lpi: his defcrvings, and my love withal. 
Be valu'd 'gainft your wifie's commandement. 

Pajf. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him. 
Give him the ring; and bring him, if thou can'ft^ 
Unto Anthonio's houfe. — Away, make hafle. 
— Come, you and 1 will thither prefently j 
And in the morning early will we both 
Fly toward 3clmont. Come, Anthonio. {E^cum^' 

^e-enter Portia atjd Nerija. 

Per. Enquire the Jew's houfe out, give him this 
deed, 
^nd let him fign it. We'll away to-nighr, 

Lm%A 



O F V E N I C Ei jujf 

id be a day before our hufbands home, 
lis deed will be weU welcome to Lorenzo. 

Enter Grattano. 
Gra. Fair Cr, you aVe well o'crtaVn : 
y lord BaiTanio, upon more advice, 
ith fent you here this ring 5 and doth intreat 
mv company at dinner. 
Per. That cannot be : 
lis ring I do accept raoft thankfully, 
id fo I pray you, tell him. Furthermore, 
>ray you, (hew my youth old Shylock's houfc. 
Gra. That will I do. 
Ner, Sir, I would fpeak with you. 
I fee if I can get my hulband's ring : [To Pvr. 
hich J did make him fwear to keep for ever. 
Per. Thou may'ft, I warrant. We fhall have old 

/wearing, 
bat they did give the rings away to men; 
It we'll out- face them, and out-fwear them too. 
— Away, make hafte j thou know'ft where I will 

tarry. 
Ner. Come, good fir, will you fhew me to this 

houfe ? [^Exeunt. 



A c T V. s c E N e; I. 

tbrnnl.^ J grave, or green place, before Portia^ s boufe. 

Enter Lorenzo and JeJJica. 
Lorenzo. 

rH E moon fhines bright : — in fuch a night as 
this, 
^hcn the fweet wind did gently kifs the trees, 

And 



a02 THE MERCHANT 

And they did make no noife ; in fuch a night, 
Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan wall, 
And figh'd his foul towards the Grecian tents, 
. Where Creflid lay that night. 

Jef. In fuch a night. 
Did Thifbe fearfully o'er-trip the dew -, 
And faw the lion's £hadow ere himfelf. 
And ran difmay'd away. 

Lor. In fuch a night. 
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand 
Upon the wild fea-banks, and wav*d her love 
To come again to Carthage. 

'jef. In fuch a night, 
Med^a gathered the enchanted herbs. 
That did rertew old ^fon. 

Lor. In fuch a night. 
Did Jeffica fteal from the wealthy Jew, 
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice, 
As far as Belmont. 

Jef. And in fuch a night. 
Did young Lorenzo fwear, he lov'd her well ; 
Stealing her foul with many vows .of faith. 
And ne'er a true one. 

Lor. And in fuch a night. 
Did pretty Jeffica, like a little flirew. 
Slander her love, and he forgave it her. 

Jef. I would out-night you, did no body come : 
But hark, I hear the footing of a man. 

Enttr a Servant. 

Lor. Who comes fo faft, in filence of the nighc^ • 

Serv. A friend. 

Lor. A friend ? what friend ? your name, I pr^^ 
you, friend ? 

Serv. Stcphano is my name ; and I bring word, 
My miftrefs will before the break of day 
Be here at Belmont. She doth ftray about 



O F V E N I C E. 20J 

holy croffcs* where (he kneels, and prays, ' 

r happy wedlock hours. 

Lor. Who comes with her ? 

^erv. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid. 

I pray you, is my mafter yet rcturn'd ? 

Imt. He is not, nor we have not heard from hitn.— 

t go we in, I pray thee, Jeflica, 

id ceremonioufly let us prepare 

me welcome for the miftrefs of the houfe. 

Enter Launcelot. 

Laun. Sola, fola^ wo ha, ho, fota, folal 

Lor. Who calls? 

Laun. Sola! did you fee mafter Lorenzo and 

iftrefs Lorenza ? fola, fola ! 

Lor. Leave hollowing, man : here. 

Laun. Sola ! where ? where ? 

Lor. Here. 

Laun. Tell him, there's a poft come from my 

after with his horn full of good news. My mafter 

ill be here ere morning, fweet foul. [Exit. 

Lor. Let's in, and there expeft their coming. 

nd yet no matter ; — ^Why ihould we go in ? 

[y friend Stcphano, fignify, I pray you, 

Within the houfe, your miftrefs is at hand ; 

nd bring your mufick forth into the air. 

[Exit fervant. 
low fweet the moon-light Qeeps upon this bank ! 



-She doth ft ray abtut 



By holy croffiSf'] 
in the Merry Devil cf Edmonton : 

•* But there are Crefes^ wife; here's one in Waltham, 
•* Another at the Abbey, and the third 
"At Cedon, and 'tis ominous to pafs 
" Any of thefe without a Pater-noftcr." 
4i<i this is a reafon afTigned for the delay of a wedding. 

St£BVEM9. 

Here 



204 THE MERCHANT 

Here will wc fir, and let the founds of mufick 
Creep in our ears ; foft ftillncfs, and the night 
Become the touches of f^ eet harmony. 
Sit, Jeflica : Look how the floor of heaven 
Is thick inlay'd with pattens of bright gold ; * 
There's not the fmallcll orb, which thou bchold'ft, 
But in his motion like an angel fings, 
Still quiring to the young-cyM cherubims : 
Such harmony is in immortal fouls ! ' . 

But 

• ■ ■ ■ nviih PATTERNS of bright goU;] We fliould read 
PATENS : a round broad plate of gold borne in heraldry. 

Warburtok. 

Fatiens is the reading of the firft folio, zn^pattenti of the qoarto. 
Paturns is printed firll in the folio, 1632. Johnson. 

^ Such harmony is in immortal fouls ;] But the harmony here 
defcribed is that of the fpheres, fo much celebrated by the an- 
tients. He fays, the fralleft orb fings like an angel ; and then fub- 
^6\Ti%, fitch harmony is in immortal fouls : but the harmony of angds 
is not here meant, but of the orb&. Nor are we to think, that 
here the poet alludes to the notion, that each orb has its intelli* 
gtnee or aigel to diredt it ; for then with no propriety could he fay, 
the orb Jung Itke an angil: he fhould rather have faid, the angel tm 
the orb Jung. Wc muft therefore coned the lines thus ; 

Such harmoffy is in immortal founds : 
i c. in the mufick of the fpheres. Warburton. 

This pailage is obfcure. Immortal founds is a harih combinatioii 
of words, yet Milton ufes a parallel cxpreiTion : 

Spirit ui l£ rapidoi qui circinat igmus orbes^ 
/ unc quo(iue fideren in'trcinit iffi chonis 
• Immortale melos, is inenarrabile carmen. 
It is proper to exhibit the linrs as they (land in the copies of 
the firft, fccond, third, and fourth editions, without any varia- 
tion, for a change has been fileiuly made, by Rowe, and adoptc4 
by sdl the fucceeding editors. 

Such harmony is in immorfal foul\, 
But 'n;htlethii muddy ntfiure of decay 
Doth irofty ckfe in it, *iue cannct hear it. 

That the third is corrupt rouft be allowed, but it gives reafon to 
fufpejfl that the original was. 
Doth grofij cUfe it in. 



OF VENICE. 205 

whilft this muddy vcfture of decay 

1 grofly clofe it in, we canndt hear it. 

le, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn ; ^ 

h fwceteft touches pierce your miftrefs' car, 

draw her home with mufick. 

/; I am never merry, when I hear fweet mufick. 

[Mufick^ 
?r. The reafon is, your fpirits are attentive : 
do but note a wild and wanton herd, 
ICC of youthful and unhandled colts, 
hing mad bounds, bellowing, and neighing loud, 
ich is the hot condition of their blood ; 
ley perchance but hear a trumpet found, 
my air of mufick touch their ears, 

(hall perceive them make a mutual ftand, 
r favage eyes turned to a modeft gaze, 
he fwccrt power of mufick. Therefore, the poet 
feign that Orpheus drew trees, Hones, and floods j 
: nought fo ftockifli, hard, and full of rage, 
mufick for the time doth change his nature. 

man that hath no mufick in himfclf, ' 

Nor 

know not whether from this any thing better can be pro- 
I than the received reading. Perhaps harmony is the power 
ui*v ng harmony^ as afterwards, Myfick in tbejhul is theqaa- 
F being moited nuith concord of Jhviet Jounds, This will fome- 
explain the old copies, but the fentence is ftill imperfe^ ; 
1 might be completed by reading. 

Such harmony is in th* immortal foul. 

But 'while this muddy vcjlure of decay 

Dtiih grcjly clofe it in, *we cannot hear it, JoH NS0ir» 

:Ufe it /»— ] is the reading of the quarto. Stbsvbns. 

luake Diafta nvth a hjmn ;] Diana is the moon, wha 

the next fcene rcprefcnted as fleeping. Johnson. 
5 7'he man that bath nc mufick in himfelf 
Nor is not mov*d nutth concord of fined foun^f^ 
thought here is extremely fine: as if the beirraffb^ed with 
k was only the harmony between the internal [mufick in him* 
and the external mufick {concord of fwitt founds;] which 

wero 



2o6 THE MERCHANT 

Nor is not mov'd with concord of fwcct founds^ 
Is fit for treafons, ftratagems, and fpoils ; 
The motions of his fpirit are dull as ntght. 
And his afFeiflions dark as Erebus: 
Let no Ibch man be trufted. — Mark the mufick. 

Enfer Portia and Nerijfa at a dijiance. 

For. That light we fee, is burning in my hall: 
^— How far that little candle throws his beams ! 
So (hines a good deed in a naughty world* 

JWr. When the moon &one, we did not fee thef 
candle* 

Por. So doth the greater glory dim the lefs : 
A fubftitute (hines brightly as a king, 
Until a king be by ; and then his flatc 
Empties itfelf, as doth an inland brook 
Into the main of waters. — Mufick, hark I [MifficL 

Ner* It is your mufick, madam, of the houfe^ 

were mutually affcQed like unifon ftrines. This whole fjpctch 
could not chufe but pleafe ao Englifli audience, whofe great paf- 
fion» as well then as now, was Wf o/mufick. yam oftri vidfMi' 
turam (fays Erafmus in praife of folly) ut JtnguUs natiomSmjg ae 
ftne cimitatibuty communem quaniam infe^tffk Pbilauiiam : ^tfwt 
bint fieri ^ ut Bkitah^i frater alia Ferfnam^ music AM, ti lamiat 
Mtnfat prtprie fibi 'vindictnt. Wa r B U rton . 

ThispaiTage, which is neither pregnant with phyfical or moral 
truth, nor poetically beautiful, in an eminent degree, has coii« 
ftantly enjoyed the good fortune to be repeated by thofe whofe in- 
hofpi table memories would have refufed to admit or retain any other 
fentiment or defcriptjon of the fame author, however exalted or 
jud. The truth is, that it fumifhes the vacant fidler with (bme- 
thiAg to iay in defence of his profefiion, and fupplies the coxcomb 
in muHc, with an ioveflive againfl fuch as do not pretend to diA 
cover all the various powers of language in inarticulate ibands. 
*^ It ia no uncommon thing to fee thofe who would think half s 
day well fpent in reconciling a couple of jarring firings to uniibn^ 
and yet would make no fcruple to employ the other half in fettin^ 
tivo of the moft intimate friends at variance. So much for thr 
certitude of being uught morality in the fchool of malic. 

iu 

Fertidti fiarnmoi^ dati ttla ' " ■ St levins* 

2 Pit, 



O F V E N I C E. 207 

Por. Nothing is good, I fee, without refped : \ 
Mcthinks, it founds much fweeter than by day. 

Ner. Silence bcftows that virtue on it, madam. 

Por. The crow doth fing as fwcetly as the4ark, 
AVheo neither is attended i and, I think. 
The nightingale, if (he (hould fing by day, 
^Whcn every goofe is cackling, would be thought 
1^0 better a mufician than the wren. 
Piow many things by feafon feaibn'd are 
To their right praife, and true perfeAion ? 
-.—Peace ! how the moon fleeps with Endymion, 
And would not be awak'd ! [Mujick ceafes. 

Lor. That is the voice. 
Or I am much deceived, of Portia. 

Por. He knows me, as the blind man knows the 
cuckow. 
By the bad voice. 

Lor. Dear lady, welcome home. 

Por. We have been praying for our hulbands' 
healths, 
Which fpeed, we hope, the better for our words. 
Arc they returnM ? 

Lor* Mad^m, they are not yet^ 
But there is come a meflfenger before. 
To fignify their coming. 

Por. Go, Nerifla, 
Give order to my fcrvants, that they take 
"No note at all of our being abfent hence. 
— ^Nor you, Lorenzo ; Jeffica, nor you. 

\A tucket founds. 

Lor. Your hufband is at hand, I hear his trumpet : 
—We are no tell-tales, madam, fear you not. 

Por. I'his night, methinks, is but the day-light 
fkk, 

.•• without re/ff 8. "] Notabfolutcly good, but rela« 

^i^elj, good as it is modified by ciicumliances. Johnson. 

It 



268 tH£ MEkCJSANt 

It looks a little paler; 'tis a day. 
Such as the day is when the fun is hid. 

Enter Bajfanio^ Anthonh^ GratianOy and their foUawers: 

Bajf. We Ihould hold day with the antipodes,- 
If you would walk in abfence of the fun. 

Per. Let me give light, ^ but let me not be light; 
For a light wife doth make a heavy hufband,- 
And never be BaflTanio fqf for me -, 
But God fort all ! — ^You arc welcome home, rty lord. 

Bffjf. 1 thank you, madam. Give welcome to my 
friend. 
— This is the man, this is Anthohio, 
To whom I am lb infinitely bound. 

For. You fhould in all fenfe be much bound 
him. 
For, as I hear, he was much bound for you.* 

jintb. No more than I am well acquitted of. 

Tor. Sir, you are very welcome to our houfe. 
It muft appear in other ways than words •, 
Therefore 1 fcant this breathing courtefy. 

[Gratiano and Neriffa feem to talk apmr^^* 

Gra. By yonder moon, 1 fwear, you do me wrong > 
In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk : 
Would he were gelt that had it, for my part^ 
Since you do take it, love, fo much at heart. 

Par. A quarrel, ho, — -^already ? what's t li ^ ^ 

matter ? 

Gra. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ringy 
That fhe did give me ; whofe poefy was 
For all the world like cutler's poetry 
Upon a knife j Love me^ and leave me not. 

]^er. What talk you of the poefy, or the value ? 
You fwore to me, when 1 did give it you, 

' Let fregi^i lights &c.] There is fcarcely any word witli which 
Shakefpeare delights to trifle as with I'igbt, in its various fignifica- 
tions. JoHNSOM. 

That 



O t V E N I C E. 209 

T'hat you would wear it till your hour of death ; 
And that it fhould lie with you in your grave. 
*rho*not for mc^ yet for your vehement oaths, 
You ihould have been refpedlive, * and have kept it. 
Gave it a judge's clerk! — but well I know. 
The clerk will ne*er wear hair on*s face that had it. 

Cra. He will, an if he live to be a man. 

Uet. Ay, if a woman live to be a man. 

Cra. Now, by this hand, 1 gave it to a youth,— 
A kind of boy, — a little fcrubbed boy, 
Mo higher than thyfelf,-^the judge's clerk— 
A. prating boy, that begg'd it as a fc<: 2 
1 could not for my heart deny it him. 

Por. You were to blame^ I muft be plain with 

Xc part fo (lightly with your wife's firft gift ; 
A thing ftuck on with oaths upon your finger. 
And riveted with faith unto your flelh. 
I gave my love a ring, and made him fwear 
N^cvcr to part with it •, and here he (lands : 
I dare be fworn for him, he would not leave it, 
Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth 
That the world mafters. Now, in faith, Gratiano, 
You give your wife too unkind a caufe of grief; 
An 'twere to me, I fhould be mad at it. 

Bajf. Why, I were beft to cut my left-hand off. 
And fwear, I loft the ring defending it. [^Afidi. 

Gra. My lord Baffanio gave his ring away 
XJnto the judge that begg'd it, and, indeed, 
licfcrv'd it too : — And then the boy, his clerk. 
That took fome pains in writing, he begg'd mine ; 
And neither man, nor maftcr, would take aught 
But the two rings. 
For. What ring gave you, my lord ? 

^-*havi ban rcfpeftive.] RefppSIive has the fame meaning as re- 
fifS/ul. See K. John, aft i. Steevens. 

Vol. III. P Not 



2IO THE MERCHANT 

Not that, 1 hope, which you received of mc. 

Bajf. \i I could add a lie unto a fault, 
I would deny it ; but you fee, my finger 
Hath not the ring upon it, it is gone. 

Por. Even fo void is your falfc heart of truth. 
By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed 
Until I fee the ring. 

Ner. Nor I in yours, 
'Till I again fee mine. 

Bajf. Sweet Portia, - 
If you did know to whom I gave the ring. 
If you did know for whom I gave the ring. 
And would conceive for what I gave the ring. 
And how unwillingly I left the ring. 
When nought would be accepted but the ring, 
You would abate the ftrength of your difpleauire. 

Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring. 
Or half her worthinefs that gave the ring. 
Or your own honour to ' retain the ring. 
You would not then have parted with the ring. 
What man is there fo much unreafonable. 
If you had pleas'd to have defended it 
With any terms of zeal, wanted the modefty 
To urge the thing held as a ceremony ? * 
Nerifla teaches me what to believe ; — 
I'll die for't, but fome woman had the ring. 

BaJf. No, by mine honour, madam, — by my foul,— 
No woman had it, but a Civil doftor. 
Who did rcfufe three thoufand ducats of me, 

* '^retain — ] The old copies concur in reading cetttam* 

JOHKSOIf* 

* ff^hat m.m ^^Anttd the moJtfty 

^0 urge the iLing held as a ceremony f'\ 

This IS a very licentious exprefilon. The fenfe is, Wlai i" 
could bi'V^Jh little raodfy or ivanted modejiy fo much, as to UIJC ^ 
demand of a thing kept on an account in fome fort religious. 

JoHMScm. 

And 



O F V E N I C E. 2it 

.nd begg'd the ring ; the which I did deny him, 
ndfiiffer'd him to go difpleasM away; 
vcn he, that did uphold the very life 
f my dear friend. What (hould I fay, fweet lady ? 
was enforcM to fend it after him ; 
vas bcfet with (hame and courtefy % 
y honour would not let ingratitude 
► much befmear it. Pardon me, good lady, 
nd by thefe bleffed candles of the night, 
ad you been there, I think, you would have beggM 
be ring of me, to give the worthy doftor. 
For. Let not that doftor e'er come near my houfc : 
ICC he hath got the jewel that I lov'd, 
id that which you did fwear to keep for^ne, 
^ill become as liberal as you ; 
i not deny him any thing I have, 
I, not my body, nor my hufband's bed : 
low him I (hall, I am well fure of it. 
5 not a night from home ; watch me, like Argus : 
irou do not, if 1 be left alone, 
'W, by mine honour, which is yet my own, 
have that doftor for my bed -fellow. 
ffer. And I his clerk; — therefore be well advis'd, 
m you do leave me to mine own protection. 
jra. Well, do you fo : let me not take him then j 
r, if I do, ril mar the young deck's pen. 
ijiib. I am the unhappy fubjeft of thefe quarrels. 
Por. Sir, grieve not you : — You are welcome, not* 

withftanding. 
Bajf. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong ; 
id in the hearing of thefe many friends, 
»vear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes, 

herein 1 fee myfelf, 

Por, Mark you but that ! 
both mine eyes he doubly fees himfclf ; 
each eye, one : fwear by your double fclf, 
^d there's an oath of credit, 

P 2 B.:J. 



212 THE MERCHANT 

Bajf. Nay, but hear me : 
Pardon this fault, and by my foul I fwcar, 
I never more will break an oath with thee. 

Antb. I once did lend my body for his wealdij* 
Which but for him, that had your huiband's ring, 

\Td Poriii. 
Had quite mifcarry'd. I dare be bound agaio. 
My foul upon the forfeit, that your lord 
Will never more break faith advifedly. 

Por. Then you fhall be his furety. Give him this, 
And bid him keep it better than the other. 

Jnlb. Here, lord Baflanio ; fwear to keep this ring. 
Bajf. By heaven, it is the fame I gave the doAor. 
Por. I had it of him: — ^pardon me, Baflanio j 
For by this ring the doftor lay with me. 

Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano, 
For tiiat fame fcrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, 
In lieu of this, lad night did lie with me. 

Gra. Why, this is like the mending of high-ways 
In fummer, where the ways are fair enough. 
What ! are we cuckolds, ere we have deferv*d it? 
Per. Speak not fo grofsly. — You are all amaz'cl: 
Here is a letter, read it at your leifure-. 
It comes from Padua, from Bcllario : 
There you ftiall find, that Portia was the doflor; 
NeriflTa there, her clerk. Lorenzo, here. 
Shall witneis I fet forth as foon as you. 
And even but now return'd : I have not yet 
Entcr'd my houfe. — Anthonioyou are welcome*, 
And I have better news in (lore for you. 
Than you expect : unfeal this letter foon. 
There you fliall find, three of your Argofies 
Are richly come to harbour fuddenly : 

♦ /cr his ivealtb.'] For his advantage; to obtain hiihip' 

pinefs. IVialth was, at that umc, the term oppofite to advtrfij* 
€r calamifj. Johnson. 

Yoo 



O F V E N I C E, 213 

(hall not know by what ftrange accident 

need on this letter. 

tb. I am dumb. 

^ Were you the doftor, and I knew you not ? 

t. Were you the cjerk that is to make me 

cuckold ? 
r. Ay ; but the clerk that never means to do it, 
fs he live until he be a man. 
f. Sweet doftor, you fhall be my bedfellow j 
1 I am abfent, then lie with my wife. 
tb. Sweet lady, you have given me life and 

living ; 
ere I read for certain, that my Ihips 
fafcly come to road. 
\ How now, Lorenzo ? 
Icrk hath fome good comforts too for you. 
\ Ay, and Til give them him without a fee.— 
? do I give, to you and Jelfica, 
the rich Jew, a fpecial deed of gift, 
his death, of all he dies poffefs'd of. 
'. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way ^ 
rved people. ' 
•. It is almoft morning, 
^et, I am fure, you are not fatisfyM 
jfe events at full. Let us go in, 
:harge us there upon interrogatories, 
ve will anfwer all things faithfully. 
:. Let it be fo. The firft interrogatory, 
my Nerifla fhall be fworn on, is, 

-you drop manna in the nuay 



Of ftar'vtd peopU.\ 
>eare is not moreexa^ in any thing, than tn adapting his 
with propriety to his fpeakers ; of which he has here given 
ince in making the young Jewefs call good fortune, manra. 

Warbvrton. 
comnientator Ihould have remarked, that this fpeech is not, 
his own edition, the fpeech of the Jewefs. Johnson. 

P 3 Whether 



21+ THE MERCHANT 

Whether till the next night fhe had rather ftay. 
Or c'O t'j btd now, being two hours to day. 
B -t were the day come, 1 fhoiild wilh it dark, 
1 hat I were couching with the doctor's clerk. 
Vv'cll, while I live, I'll fear ro other thing 
So fore, as keeping fare Neriffa's ring. 

[Exeuni omtti.\ 

* It has been lat.Iy difcovered, t!i3t xVu fable is taken from I 
ftory in t!:e Pecoronc of Scr Gicvar.::i Fiorentino, a novdlift, wbo - 
wrote in 1378. The ilcry has betri publiihcd in Englifb, and I 
h?.vc eptoir-ifed the trarflation. Thp tranflator is of opinioDi 
that :he choice <^f ihe cpfkcts is borrowed from a talc of Boccace, 
vhich 1 have likcvvilc abiidgcd, though I believe that Shab- 
fpccrc muil have had fome other novel in view. Johvson. 

THERE lived at Florence, a merchant whofe namewll 
Bindo. 'He was rich, and had three fens. Being near hil 
end, he callei for the two eldeft, and left them heirs; to the 
your^ ".l r.c \zh nothing. This youngci^, whofe name was Gi- 
5:.n.t:o. v._:.t t ^ his father, and faid, \Vhat has my father done? 
The Ltii-T :.:!:ei, Dear Giannetto, there is none to whom I 
wifh betrcr th-n to you. Go to \enice to your godfather, wkofe 
ranie h AnblJo ; he has no child, and has wrote to me often ta 
fend you ihlihcT to him. I-fe is the richcft merchant amongftthc 
Chr ..ar;j> : if you bthave wtll, you will be certainly a rich mm. 
The Ton itufwciid, J am ready lo do whatever my dear father (hall 
pommar.d : upon which he <^ave him his bcnediiflion, and in t 
few days ciitd. 

Giannctto went to Anfaldo, and prefcnted the letter given bf 
the father before his death. Anfaldo reading the letter, crie4 
<>ut, My dcar».'ll goai'on is v.clcome to my armi. He then aflttd 
ncur. of his fath-^-r. (jiamttto replied, l^e is dead. I am mack 
grieved, replied AnfaMo, to hear of ihc death of Bindo ; bnttbe 
joy I feci, in fttin^^ you, mitigates my forrow. He condufted 
iiim to liis iK.ufe, a;i'J ?ave orders to his fcrvants, that Giannctto 
ftouid be obeyed, ar.d fc^rved with more attention than had bea 
paid to himfcif. He then delivered him the keys of his ready 
iiioncy; and tc.ld him, Son, fpend this mrney, ivfcp a table, tod 
make yo.irfrlf known : remember, that the more you gain tl< 
gond V ill cT every bccy, the more you will be dear :o me. 

(ii-.r.iccto now began to pive entertainments. He was flKW* 
obc'iic'fu a:id ciitcous to Anfaldo, than if he had been an hon- 
flied, liiutb his father. Every boJy in Venice wai fond of hitn. 



O F V E N I C E. 215 

Ido coold tfaink of nothing butbim ; fo much was he pleafed 
his good manners and behaviour. 

happened, that two of his moil intimate acquaintance de« 
3 to go with two fhips to Alexandria, and told Giannetco, 
'Quid do well to take a voyage and fee ihe world. I would 
Singly, faid he, if my father Anfaldo will give leave. His 
^anions go to Anfaldo, and beg his permiflion for Giannetto 
in the ipring with them to Alexandria; and defire him to 
dehimafhip. Anfaldo immediately procured a very fine 
loaded it with merchandize, adorned it with ftreamers, and 
Ihcd it with arras ; and, as foon as it was ready, he gave or- 

the captain and failors to do every thing that Giannetto 
lUnded. It happened one morning early, that Giannetto 

1 gulph, with a fine port, and afked the captain how the 
vas called ? He replied, That place belongs to a widow lady, 
has ruined many gentlemen. In what manner ? fays Gian- 
. He anfwered. This lady is a fine and beautiful woman, 
las made a law, that whoever arrives here is obliged to go to 
/ilh her, and if he can have the enjoyment of her, he muft 
ber for his wife, and be lord of all the country ; but if he 
>t enjoy her, he lofes every thing he has brought with him. 
netto, after a little refledlion, tells the captain to get into the 

He was obeyed ; and in an inflant they Aide into the port 
ily that the other Ihips perceived nothing, 
e lady was ibon informed of it, and fent for Giannetto, who 
d on her immediately. She, taking him by the hand, afked 
ho he was ? whence he came? and if he knew the cudom of 
mntry .' He anfwered, That the knowledge of that cuftom 
is only reafon for coming. The lady paid him great ho- 
, and fent for barons, counts, and knights in great numbcf, 
/ere her fubjefts, to keep Giannetto company. Thcfc nobles 
highly delighted with the good breeding and manners of 
kcito ; and all would have rejoiced to have him for their 

e night being come, the lady faid, it frcms to be time to 
bed. Giannetto told the lady, he was cntirtvly devoted to her 
i ; and immedintei/ two darilels enter v/itli wine and fweet- 
. The lady intrf^ats hiin to m lie the v,'ine : he takes the 
meats, and drink r. iomc of tlic wine, w'lich was prepared 
ngredients to caufe fleep. lie then gees irtorhe bed, where 
tantly falls «flecp, and never wakes till late in the morning ; 
c lady rofe with the fun, and gave orders to unload the vef- 
hich (he found full of rich merchandize. After nine o'clock 
3mcn fervants go to the bed-fidc, order Giannetto to rife 
c gone, for he had loil the fiiip. The lady gave him-a horfe 
loncy, ai.d he leaves the place very melancholy, and goes to 
c. When he arrives, b" dares not r^iura home lor Ihame; 
P 4 but 



2i6 THE MERCHANT 

but at night goes to the houfe of a friend, who is farpiifed to fea 
hiniy and inquires of him the caufe of his return ? He anfWent 
his fhip had ilrack on a rock in the night, and was broke in 
pieces. 

This friend, going one day to make a vifit to Anfaldo, foand 
him very difconlolate. I fear, 'fays Anfalde, fo much, that this 
fon of mine is dead, that I have no reft. His friend told him, that 
he had been ihipvvreck'd, and had loft his all, but that he himfdf 
was fafe. Anfaldo inftantly gets up, and runs to find him. Mf 
dear fon, fays he, you need not fear my difpleafure ; it is a common 
accident ; trouble yourfelf no further, tie takes him home, aU 
the way telling him to be chearful and eafy. 

The pews was foon known all over Venice, and every one wai 
concerned for Giannetto. Some time after, his companions ar* 
rivingifrom Alexandria very rich, demanded what was become qf 
their friend, and having heard the ftory, ran to fee him, and re- 
joiced with him for his fafecy ; telling him that next fpring, he 
might gain as much as he had loft the laft. But Giannetto had 
np other thoughts than of his return to the lady ; and was re— 
folved to marry her, or die. Anfaldo told him frequently, BOC 
to be caft down. Giannetto faid, he fhould never be happy, til(_ 
he was at liberty to make another voyage. Anfaldo provided ano^— 
ther (hip of more value than the firft. He again entered the por^=. 
of Belmonte, and the lady looking on the port from her bed- 
chamber, and feeing the fhip, afked her maid, if (he knew th^s 
dreamers ? the maid faid, it was the (hip of the youne man whc^ 
arrived the laft year. You are in the right, anfwered the ladyis 
he muft furely have a great regard for me, for never any one^ 
came a fecond time :' the maid faid, fhe had never feen a mor^ 
agreeable man. He went to the caftic, and prefented himfelf t^ 
the lady ; who, as foon as fhc faw him, embraced him, and the 
day was pafTed in joy and revels. Bed-time being come, theladjT 
entreated him to go to reft : when they were fcatcd in the cham- 
ber, the two damfels enter with wine and fwcet- meats ; and having 
car and drank of them, they j»o to bed, and immediately Gian« 
nctto falls aflcep ; the lady ur.drcfJ'ed, and lay down by his fide; 
but he w..l:cd not the whole night. In the morning, the lady 
riles, and gives orders to llrip the fhip. He has a horfe and 
money given to him, and away he goes, and never ftops till he 
gels to \'cnice; and at night goes to the fame friend, who with 
allonifhmcnt aflccd him, what was the matter? I am undone, fayi 
Cyjanneito. IJis friend anrv\ered, You are the caufe of the ruia 
of Anfaldo, a. d your Ihamo ought to be greater than the lofs yoo 
have fufr'crcd. Gianreito lived privately many days. At lafl he 
took a rci'olutlon of feeing Anfaldo, who rofe from his chair, and 
running to embrace him, told him he was welcome : Giannetto 
with tiars returned his embraces. Anfaldo heard his tale: do 



O F V E N I C E. ai7 

i0t griere, my dear fon, fays he, we have flill enough : the Tea 
uuiches fome men* others it ruins. 

Poor Giannetto's head was day and night full of the thoughts 
of his bad fuccefs. When Anfaldo enquired what was the mat- 
ter, he confeifedy he could never be contented till he (hould be in 
acondition to regain all that he lod. When Anfaldo found hixa 
refolved, he began to fell every thing he had, to furnifli this other 
fiae fliip with merchandize : but, as he wanted flill ten thoufand 
dacats, he applied himfelf to a Jew at Medri, and borrowed them 
oa condition, that if they were not paid on tlie fczfi of St. John in 
t)ie next month of Inne, that the Jew might take a pound of flefli 
from any part of his body he pleafed. Anfaldo agreed, and the 
}em had an obligation drawn, and witnefFed, with all the form 
and ceremony ncceifary ; and then counted him the ten thoufand 
docats of gold, with which Anfaldo bought what was dill wanting 
bt the veflcl. This lad (hip was finer and better freighted than 
tbe other two, and his companions made leady for the voyage, 
with a defign that whatever they gained (hould be for their friend. 
When it wa^ time to depart, Anfaldo told Giannetto, that fince he 
ivdl knew of the obligation to the Jew, he entreated, that if any 
misfortune happened, he would return to Venice, that he might 
fee him before he died ; and then he could leave the world with 
fatisfadion : Giannetto promifed to do every thing that he con- 
ceived might give him pleafure. Anfaldo gave him his blefling, 
they took their leave, and the ihips fet out. 

Giannetto had nothing in his head but to (leal into Belmonte ; 
aBd he prevailed with one of the failors in the ni^ht to fail the vef« 
icl into the port. It was told the lady, that Giannetto was ar- 
rived in port. She faw from the window the vcHel, and imme- 
diately fpnt for him. 

Giannetto goes to the caftlc, the day is fpent in joy and feaft- 
ing; and to honour him* a tournutnent is ordered, and many ba- 
tons and knights tilted that day. Glar.ncctodid wonders, (o well 
did he underiland the lance, and was fo graceful a figure on horfe- 
back : he pleafed fo much, that all were defirous to have him for 
tkeiriord. 

The lady, when it was the ufual time, catcliing him by the 
hind, bejrged him to take his rcll. When he pa.Tcd the door of 
tbe chamber, one of thedamfcls in a whifper faid to him, Make 
a pretence to drink the liquor, but touch not one drop. The lady 
^1 1 know you mule be ii;irily, I muil have you drink before you 
goto bed : immediately two damfcls entered the room, and pre- 
fcBled the wine. Who can refufe wine from fuch beautiful 
hands? cries Giannetto: at which the lady (miled. Giannetto 
takes the cup, and making as if he drank, pours the wine into his 
bpTom, The lady thinking he had drank, fays aGde to herfelf 
with great joy, You mufl go, young man, and bring another ihip> 



2i8 THE MERCHANT 

for this is condemned. Giannetto went to bed, and began tB 
fnore as if he flcpt found ly. The lady perceiving this, laid ber- 
felf down by his fide. Giannetto lofes no time, but turning to tbe 
lady, embraces her, fnying. Now am I in poi^eiTion of my atmoft 
wifhcs. WhenGIanneito came cutof his chamber, he was knighted^ 
and placed in the chair ofilate, had the fceptre put into hit 
hand, and was proclaimed fovereign of the country, with great 
pomp and fplendour ; and when the lords and ladies were come to 
the cafUe, he married the lady in great ceremony. 

Giannetto governed excellently, and caufed jufticeto beadni- 
oiftered impartially. He continued fome time in this happy fftte, 
and never entertained a thought of poor Anfaldo, who had given 
hit bond to the Jew for ten thoufand ducats. But one day, aike 
llood at the window of the palace with his bride, he faw a number 
of people pafs along the piazza, with lighted torchet in their 
hands. What is the meaning of this ? uys he. The ladyaa- 
fwered, I'hey are artificers, going to make their ofFeriDgs at the 
church of St. John, this day being his feftival. Giannetto in* 
flantly rccollcded Anfaldo, gave a great figh, and turned pile. 
His lady enquired the caufe of his fudden change. He faid, he 
felt nothine;. She continued to preA with great earneftnefs, till 
he was obliged to confefs the caufe of his uneafinefs, that Anfalde 
was engaged for the money, that the term was expired ; and the 
grief he was in was lell his father (hould lofe his life for him : 
that if the ten thoufand ducats were not paid that day, he moft 
lofe a pound of his flelh. The lady told him to mount on horfe- 
back, and go by land the neareft way, to take fome attendants, 
and an hundred thoufand ducats ; and not to ftop till he arrived at 
Venice ; and if he was not dead, to endeavour to bring Anfaldoto 
her. Giannetto takes horfe with twenty attendants, and makei 
the beft of his way to Venice. 

The time being expired, the Jew had feized Anfaldo, and ia- 
filled on having a pound of his flcih. He entreated him only te 
wait fome days, that if his dear Giannetto arrived, he might haft 
the pleafurc of embracing him : the Jew replied he was willing to 
wait ; but, fays he, I will cut ofF the pound of flclh, accordiogto 
the words of the obligation. Anfaldo anfwcred, that he was coo- 
tent. 

Several merchants would have jointly paid the money ; the Jew 
would not hearken to the propofal, but infilled that he might haic 
the faiiifadlion of faying, th .t he h«'.d put to death the greatcfl of 
the ChrilHan merchants. Giannetto making all poffible halleto 
Venice, his lady foon followed him in a lawyer's habit, with tfiO 
fervants attending her. Giannetto, when he came to Venicfi 
goes to the Jew, and (after cmbracinj^ Anfaldo) tflls him, he is 
ready to pay the money, and as n-.uch iiiore as he fhould demand. 
'1 hf Jew faid, he would lake no a;on« y, fuice it v.as not paid at 

ibc 



O F V E N I C E. 219 

die time due ; bat that he would have the pound of flefli. Every 
one blamed the Jew| but as Venice was a place where juftice was 
firi£l1y adminiflered, and the Jew had his pretenfions grounded on 
pablick and received forms, their only refource was entreaty ; 
and when the merchants of Venice applied to him, he was inflex^ 
ible. Giannetto offered him twenty thoufand, then thirty thoa- 
fandy afterwards forty, fifty, and at laft an hundred tboufand da- 
cits. The Jew told him, if he would give him as much gold at 
Venice was worth, he would not accept it ; and fays he, you know 
little of me, if you think I will defiil from my demand. 

The lady now arrives at Venice, in her lawyer's drefs ; and 
alighting at an inn, the landlord afks of one of the fervants who 
hif mafterwas ? The fervant anfwcred, that he was a young lawyer 
who had finished his (ludies at Bologna. The landlord upon Chit 
Aews his gueft great civility : and when he attended at dinner, 
the lawyer enquiring how jufiice was adminiflered in that city, 
he anfwered, juflice in this place is too fevere, and related the 
cafe of Anfaldo. Says the lawyer, this queflion may be eaiily 
anfwered. If you can anfwer it, fays the landlord, and fave this 
worthy man from death, you will get the love and efteem of all 
the bed men of this city. The lawyer caufed a proclamation to 
be made, that whoever had any law matters to determine, they 
ihouldhave recourfe to him : fo it was told to Giannetto, that a 
famous lawyer was come from Bologna, who could decide all cafes 
in law. Giannetto propofcd to the Jew to apply to this lawyer. 
With all my heart, fiys the Jew ; but let who will come, I will 
ftick to my bond. They came to this judge, nnd faluttrd him. 
Giannetto did not remember him : for he had difguifed his face 
with the juice of certain herbs. Giannetto, and the Jew, each 
told the merits of the caufe to the judge ; who, when he had 
taken the bond and read it, faid to the Jew, I mull have you take 
the hundred thoufand ducats, and rtlcafe this honvil man, who 
will always have a grateful fenfe of the favour done to him. The 
Jew replied, I will do no fuch thing. The judge anfwered, it 
will be better fcr you. The Jew was pofr.ive to yield nothing. 
Upon this they go to the tribunal appointed for fvicn judgments : 
and our judge f:)ys to the Jew, Do you cut a pound of this m?.n*» 
flefll where you chufe. The Jcrw ordered him to be Jlrippcd naked ; 
and takes in his hand a razor, which had been made on purpofe. 
Giannetto feeing this, turning :o tlv?. jiidge, this, fays ht, is not 
the favour I afkcd of you. Be quiet, f:>3 he, the pound of fleih is 
not yet cut off. As foon as um }c^\' was going to begin, Take 
care what you do, fays the judge, if you take more or iefs than a 
pound, I vvill order your he.d to be llruck off: and befide, if you 
ihed one drop of bl'>0il, you Jhnl! be put to death. Your pa- 
per makes no mention of the flieddiir^ of blood ; but fays ex- 
prcfly, that you may t;jke a pound of litlh, neither more nor W[s, 

lie 



120 THE MERCHANT 

He immediately Tent for the ezecationer to bring the block and 
tx ; and now, fays he, if 1 fee one drop of blood, off goes your 
head. At length the Jew, after much wrangling, told him» Give 
me the hundred thoufand ducats, and I am content. No» fays 
the judge, cutoff your pound of Ae(h according to your bond: 
why did not you take the money when it was oficred i The 

Jew came down to ninety, and then to eighty thoufand: 
ut the judge was dill refolute. Giannetto told the judge to 
five what he required, that Anfaldo might have his liMrty : 
ut he replied, let me manage him. Then the Jew would hm 
taken hhy thoufand : he faid, I will not give you a penny. Give 
me at leaft, fays the Jew, my own ten thoufand ducats, and a coHir 
confound you all. The judge replies, I will give younothine: 
if you will have the pound of iiefh, take it; if not, I willorMT 
your bond to be proteiled and annulled. I'he Jew feeing hecooU 
gain nothing, tore in pieces the bond in a great rage. Anfaldo 
was releafed, and conduclcd home with great joy by Giannetto, 
who carried the hundred thoufand ducats to the inn to the lawyer. 
The lawyer faid, I do not want money ; carry it back to you 
lady, that (he may not fay, that you have fquandered it awav 
idly, bays Giannetto, my laJy is (o kind, that 1 might fpend 
four times as much, without incurring her difpleafurc. How ait 
you p'cafed with the lady ? fays the lawyer. 1 love her better than 
any earthly thinp:, anfwers Giannetto : nature feems to have done 
her utmolUn forming her. Jf you will come and fee her, you will 
be furprifed at the honours fhe will Ihew you. I cannot go with 
you, fays the lawyer ; but fincc you fpeak fo much good of her, I 
mud dcfire you to prrfent my refpcfts to her. I will not fail, Gi- 
annetto anfwcrcd ; and now, let me entreat you to accept of fome 
of the money. While he was fpcaking, the lawyer obferved • 
ring on his iinger, and faid, if you will give me this ring, lihall 
feck no other reward. Willingly, fays Giannetto; but as it ill 
ring gi\cn mc by my lady, to wear fur her fake, I have fome re- 
luilance to part with it, and ftie, \w.t feeing it on my finger, will 
believe, that I have given it to a woman. Says the lawyer, fht 
etteems you fufliciently to credit what you tell her, andyoumiy 
fay you made a preient of it to me ; but I rather think you want 
to give it tofiimc former millrcfs here in Venice. So great, fiyi 
Giannetto, is the love and reverence I bear to her, that I would 
not change h-.-r for any woman in the world. After this, he takes 
the ring from his finger, and pr.-fcnts it to him. I have (lill a ft- 
vour to i.r^:, lays the lawyer. It Ihall be granted, fays Giannetto. 
It 1$, replioj ho, that you do not flay any time here, but go as 
i»ion as poililile to your hdy. It appears to me a thoufand yeirs 
till I Uc JuT, anfvvered Giannetto : and immediately they take 
leave ct each crher. The lawyer embarked, and left Venice. 
Giann-.i:j took leave of his Venetian friends, and cariied An- 



O F V £ N I C E. iii 

laldo with him, and Come of his old acquaintance accompanied 
them. The lady arrived fome days before ; and having refumed 
her female habit» pretended to have fpent the time at the baths ; 
and now gave orders to have the (beets lined with tapeftry : and 
when Giannetto and Anfaldo were landed* all the coart went out 
to meet them. When they arrived at the palace, the lady ran to 
embrace Anialdo, but feigned anger againfl Giannetto, though 
fhe loved him exceffively : yet the feaiUngs, tilts, and diveriions 
went on as ufual, at which all the lords and ladies were prefentii 
Giannetto feeing that his wife did not receive him with her accuf* 
tomed good countenance, called her, and would have faluted her. 
She told him, fhe wanted none of his careffes : I am fure, fayt 
the, you have been laviih of them to fome of your former mif- 
trefles* Giannetto began to make excufes. She afked him where 
was the ring fhe had given him ? It is no more than what I ex- 
pe£ted, cries Giannetto, and I was in the right to fay vou would 
be anery with me ; but, 1 fwear, by all that is facred, and by 
your dear felf, that I gave the ring to the law)'cr who gained our 
caufe. And / can fwear, fays the lady, with as much ibiemnity, 
that you gave the ring to a woman : therefore fwear no more. Gi- 
annetto protefted that what he had told her was true, and that he 
faid all this to the lawyer, when he afked for the ring. The lady 
aeplied, you would have done much better to flay at Venice with 
your miftrefles, for 1 fear they all wept when you came away. Gi- 
annetto's tears began to fall, and in great forrow he afTured her, 
that what fhe fuppofed could not be true. The lady feeing his 
tears, which were daggers in her bofom, ran to embrace him, 
aud in a fit of laughter fhewed the ring, and told him, that fhe 
was herfelf the lawyer, and how fhe obtained the ring. Giannetto 
was greatly ailonifhed, finding it all true, and told the flory to 
the nobles and to his companions ; and this heightened greatly 
the love between him and his lady. He then called the damfel 
who had given him the good advice in the evening not to drink 
the liquor,' and gave her to ^uCMo for a wife : and they fpent 
the reft of their lives in great felicity and contentment. 

RUggieri de Figiovanni took a refblution of going, for fome 
time, to the court ci Aitonfo king of Spain. He was gra- 
cionfly received, and livii.^'* - ■ e fome time in great magnifi- 
cence, and giving remarka:,i\ ,i..oofs of his courage, was greatly 
cfteemed. Having frequent opportunities of examining minutely 
die behaviour of the king, he obferved, that he gave, as he 
thonght, with little difcernment, caftles, and baronies, to fuch who 
were unworthy of his favours ; and to himfelf, who might pre- 
tend to be of fome eftiroation, he gave nothing: he therefore 
thought the fitted thing to be done, was to demand leave of the 
kbg to return home. 

His 



4«4 THE MERCHANT 

Tbe ird lUinza cf the b&llad bsgins thas, 

** I read that once io Africa 

** A prince that there did rainc, 
** Who had to name Cophctua, 

The priFce, or king, fa: Is in love wi:h a female beggar» whoffl h' 
fees accide.-i sally frcm :he windou's cf his palace, and afterwnds 
marries her. [Sign. D. 4.] The fon^, cited at length bytk 
learned Dr. Gray, on this fubjecl, is evidently fpurioat, uA 
much more modern than Shakefpeare's time. The name €(► 
phetua is not once mentioned in it. 

Kotet on Slakc/ptmre^ vol. ii. p. 267. 

HoH-ever, I fufpeft, there is fome more genuine copy than diat 
of 1 6 1 2, which I before mentioned. But this point may be, per* 
haps, adjufied by an ingenious enquirer into our old Engliih lil^ 
rature, who is now publiOiing a curious collection of anticnt bil- 
lads, which will illuurate many paiTages in Shakefpeare. 

I doubt not but he received the hint of writing ^ing Lear fioi 
a ballad on that fubjedl. But in moil of his hillorical plays, k 
copies Hall, Holinihed, and Stowe, the reigning hiftoriaos of 
that age. And although thefe Chronicles were then univcHallf 
known and read, he did not fcruple to tranfcribe their materiali 
with the mod circumllantial minutenefs. For this he could fiOC 
cfcape an oblique flroke of fatire from his envious friend, Ben* 
Jonfon, in the comedy called. The Devil's an Afs, ad ii. (€.4. 

" FitX'doi. Thomas of Woodftock, I'm fure, was duke: and 
•* he was made away at Calice, as duke Humfrey was atBurft 
*' And Richard the Third, you know what end he came to. 

** Mier-er. By my faith, you're cunning in the Chronicle. 

" FiiZ'dot. No, 1 co: .015, 1 ha't from the play-books, Mi 
•• think they're rrorf r.j-iicntick." 

In Antony Wood's CO \5lion of ballads, in the AflimoleanMo- 
fcum, ] find one with tht; . liiowing title : ** The lamentable «4 
tragical iliilorie of 1 itu? Andronicus, with the fall of his i« 
and twenty fens in the wars with the Gcths ; with the murder 01 
his daughter Lavinia, by the emprcfic? two fons, through tat 
means of a bloody Moor, taken by the fword of Titus in tbcWtfJ 
his revenge upon their cruel and inhumane acle." 

** You noble nr.indes and famous martiall wights.'* 

The ufe which Shakefpeare might make of this piece, is**' 
vious. Warton. 

The two principal incidents nf this play are to be found f?p<* 
ratHy in a colleaion of odti Ilorics, which were very popular, «« 
leuft five hundred years aj^o, under the title of G<7?fl Rom<tn9ffi^* 
The fiift, 0/she bond, is in ch. xlviii. of the copy, which 1 chuic 



N 



OF VENICE. 215 

» tefer tOt ta tlie ccunpleteft of any wkich I have yet fcen. MS* 
larl. n. 12^0. A knight tliere borrows money of a merchant, 
poB condition of forfeiting allkisflefl? for non-payment. Then 
iiejpenalty is exaOed belbre the judge; the knight** mifirtfs^ dif- 
oifedy i« f&ftma wri C5f 'vejlimcntis pntiofis induta^ comes into 
oarti anda by permiflion of the judge, endeavours to mollify the 
lOtbni. She firft offers him his money, and then the double of 

44c« IQ all which his anfwer is Comtnthnem meam volobdhert. 

^^oella cum hoc audiiTet ait coram ommibus Domine mi ju- 
eii da itfiam jadicium fuper his quae vobis dixero. Vos fcitis 

lod milea nnoquam fe obligabat ad aliud per literam nifi quod 
locator hafaeat poteftatem carnes ab offibus fcindere, fintfangui^ 
it tfifiuUf de quo nihil erat prolocutum. Statim mitut manum 
lan ; fi veroianguinem effuderit, Rex contra eum aSigmm babet. 
locator, cum hoc audiflet. ait ; dat^ mihi pecuniam & omnem 
SaNNoi ei remitto. Ait puella. Amen dico tibi, nullum dena- 
isB habcbis — pone ergo manum in earn, ita ut fanguinem non 
fittdas. Mercator vero videns fe confufum abfceflit ; & (ic vita 
lifitis fidyata eft, St nullum denarium dedit.— >— * 
The other incident, oftbt cajkets^ is in ch. xcix. of the fame 
oBcdion. A king of Apulia fends his daughter to be married to 
ke ion of an emperor of Rome. After feme adventures, (which 
icaothing to the prefent purpofe) fhe is brought before the em- 
eror; who fays to her, *' Paella, propter amorem Alii mei multa 
iber& foftinuifti. Tamen fi digna fueris ut uxor ejus iis cito 
lobabo. £t fecit fieri tria vafa. P r 1 m u m fuit de auro purijfimo 
; kpidibns pretiofis interius ex omni parte, & plenum ojjihus mor^ 
mm ; & exterius erat fubfcriptio : ^/ mt eligerit in me invtmct^ 
^wuruit. Secundum vas erat de argemo puro, & gemmis pre* 
ofiiplehom terra ; & exterius erat fubfcriptio : qui me elegerii, in me 
y9metqu9d matura appetite Te rt i u m vas drplumho plenum lupidi- 
^fntinfii intcriits l^ gemmis nobihjjimis ; & exterius erat fubfcriptio 
till: ^i me elegerity in me in^veniet quod iirm difpffuit. l^a tria 
kadit puellar, & dixit, ii unum ex ilHs cicgcris in quo commo- 
10 k proficuum eft filium meum habebis. Si vero clegeris quod 
Odbi nee aliiselt commodum, ipfum ^on habebis." I'hc young 
dj, after mature confideration of the veflcls and their infcrip* 
Mit, chufes the leaden^ which being opened, and found to be 
iH of gold and precious ftoncs, the emperor fays : ** Bona puella 

caeetegifti ideo filium meum habcbis." 

From this abftra6l of thefc two (lories, I think it appt^r^ iufli- 
iCQtly plain that they arc tlie REMt)TE originals of ihc two inci- 
^in this play. I can hard'y fippofe that they were the ori- 
;iiilh which Shakefpearc injn^»ediatcjy copied, lor this realon 
*JBdpally, becaufe I doubt whether they h..vc ever appeared iii 
fwt. They certainly are not to be found in an edition of the 
f^kmanorumf which I have myfclf, piinied as late as 1521 ; 
Vol, IU. Q^ nor 



226 THE MERCHANT, &c; 

nor in fome much older editions, which I have occafionall 
mined. There is a book of one Richard Robinfon, mentioi 
Tanner, Biblioth. Brit, Hib. p. ^76. which might poflibly 
fome light to ihis fubjeft. The title, as given by the aathc 
felf, is, A Record of ancient Hyftoryes, in Latin, Gefta '. 
norum (autore, at fapponitur, Jobanne Leylando, Antii 
tranflated by me, perufed, corre^ed, and better'd. L 
MDLXxvii. i2mo. This book is there faid, to have had f 
tions between 1^77 and 160 1 ; but I have never been able I 
with a copy of it. The fuppofition that Leland was the 
of Gt/fa RomanorMm is certainly groundlefs ; but it is n 
poflible, that a copjr of that book (differing from the printec 
and, perhaps, containing the two (lories which I have here afa 
from the Harleian MS.) might have been found among Li 
nanufcripts, and tranflated oy Mr. R. Robinfon as an or 

1 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 



COMEDY. 



Perfons Reprefented. * 
DUKE. 

Frederick, brother to tie Duke^ and ufurper. 
Amiens, i Lords attending upon the Duke in bis ha 
Jaques, J nijhment. 
Lc Beau, a courtier attending upon Frederick. 
Oliver, eldeft fan to Sir Rowland dc Boys. 

oXndoj •'"'*'««' ^''"'^^'^ '" O^'^"- 
Adam, anoldfervant of Sir Rowland de Boys. 
Touchftone, a clown. 

f^Wus, } «***''■*• 

William, in love with Audrey. 
Sir Oliver Mar-text, a country curate.'' 
Charles, wreftler to the ufurping Duke Frederick. 
Dennis, fervant to Oliver. 

Rofalind, daughter to the Duke. ^ 

Celia, daughter to Frederick. 
Phebc, a fiepherdefs. 
Audrey, a country wench. 

Lords belonging to the two Dukes ; with pages^ for^U 
and other attendants. 

^he SCENE lies, firft^ near Oliver's bcufe\ tiA 
afterwards, partly in the Duke's court-, andp^^ 
in the for eft of Arden. 

* The lift of the perfons being omitted in the old editionii wtt 
added by Mr. Rowe. Johnson* 



AS 



.S YOU LIKE IT.' 



ACT I. SCENE I. 

OLIVER'S ORCHARD. 

Enter Orlando and Adam. 

Orlando. 

i S I remember, Adam, it was upon this fa- 

n|^ fliion bequeathed me. By will, but a poor 

thoufand crowns^; and, as thou fay 'ft, charged 

brother on his blefTmg to breed me well. And 

re begins my fadnefs. My brother Jaques he keeps 

at 



Ajjou like it was certainly torronvejj if we believe Dr. Grey, 
Mr. Upton, from the Coke's Tale of Gamelyn ; which by 
vay was not printed 'till a century afterward : when in truth 
old bard, who was no hunter of MSS. contented bimfelf 
Y with Lodge's Rofalynd, or Euphnes' Golden Legacye. 4to. 
>• Farmer. 

lakefpeare has followed the fable more exadlly than is his ge- 
1 cuftom when he is indebted to fuch worthlels originals ; and 
kecch'd (bme of his principal characters, and borrowed a few 
effioos from it. His imitations, &c. however^ are too infig- 
int to merit tranfcription. Ste evens. 

iff / renumber f Adanty it tvas wpPH this fashion hequeathiJwu 
'ily hat a poor thou/and crowns, (^c] The grammar, as well as 
, fuffers cruelly by this reading. There are two nominatives 
e verb bequeathed^ and not fo much as one to the verb chatted: 
ret, to the nominative there wanted, [i^// blejpng] refers. So 
the whole fentence is confufed and obfcure. A very fmall al- 
on in the reading and pointing fets all right.— »-^i Iremem- 
0^3 ^^r. 



cjd A S y O U L I K E I T. 

%t fchool, and report fpeaks ^Idenly of his profit: 
for my part, he keeps me ryftically at home ; or, to 
focak more properly, ftays me here at home, unkcpt-,' 
ior call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birch, 
that differs not from the Hailing of an ox ? His horles 
ure bred better ^ for, befides that they are fair with 
their feeding, they are uught their manage, and to 
that end riders daily hired : but I, his brother, gain 
nothing under him but growth ; for the which his 
animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him as 
I. Befides this Nothing that he fo plentifully gives 
Rie, the Soniething that nature gave me, * his coun* 

tiff Mam, it ivm upon tb':t mt father Biqueaibul me^ &C. Tht 
grammar is now redified, and the fenfe alio ; which is tbis^ Or- 
^ndo and Adam were dircourfing together on the caufe why titf 
younger brother had but a thoufand crowns left him. tiff 
^gree upon it ; and Orlando opens the fcene ip this mannery Jt 
I remember^ it was up9n this, i. e. for the reaiba we have been 
talking of, that my father left me b|it a thoufapd crowns ; bov* 
pytTf to make amends for this fcanty provKion* he charged 0:7 
|)rother on his blefling to breed me well. War bur ton. 

There is, in my opinion, nothing but a point mifplaced, and 
«n omiflion of a word which every hearer can fupply* and wbkk 
((lerefbre an abrupt and eager dialogue naturally excludes. 

I read thus : j^t I remtmber^ Adom^ it was on tbis fajbin Ih 
fuiotbid me. By will tut a poor tboufand crowns ; amd^ as ihm 
Jayeftf cbarged my brotber on bis bUJftng to breed me welL Wblt 
is there in this difficult or obfcure ? The nominative my fathir b 
pertainly left out, but fo left out that the auditor injerti it, is 
(pite of himfclf. Johnson. 

' Stays me bere at bome^ uti^eft,] We (hould read sttIi !•*• 
Jceeps me like a brute. The following words— —y«r caliyoM thif 

ieeping tkat differs not from tbefialling of an mt, fronfimi ibii 

emendation. So Caliban fays. 

And bere you sty me in tbis bard rock* Wa R B u R TOf • 

^/i#;is better than/^y/, and more likely to be Shakefpeare's. 

JOHlfSOV* 

♦ His countenance feems to take from me J] We fhouM cer- 
tainly read, bis piscountenance. War bur ton. 

There is no need of change, a countenance is either good ot 
l^ad. JoHusoNf I 

fcnapc? 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 231 

enance feems to take from me. He lets me feed 
vich his hinds, bars me the place of a brother, and, 
la much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my 
iducation. This is it, Adam, that grieves me; and 
hefpiritof my father, which, I think, is within me, 
>egins to mutiny againft this fervitude. I will no 
onger endure it, though yet I know no wife remedy 
low to avoid it. 

Enter Oliver. 

Aiam. Yonder comes my matter, your brother. 

Orla. Go apart, Adam, and thou (halt hear how 
he will (hake me up. 

Oil. Now, fir ! what make you here ? 

Orla. Nothing: I am not taught to make aDy 
diing. 

Olu What mar ye then, fir ? 

Orla. Marry, fir, I am helping you to mar that 
which God made ; a poor unworthy brother of yours, 
with idlenefs. 

Olu Marry, fir, be better employed, and be nought 
a while. ^ 

Orla, 

' Bt hettit €mpUf d^ andht nought a while.] Mr. Theobald 
has here a very critical note ; which, though his modefty fuffer* 
ed him to withdraw it from his fecond edition, deferves to be per- 
petuated, i. e. (fays he) bi better employed, in my opinton^ im being 
etnd doing nothing. Tcur idlenefi^ as you call it, may be an exerci/e by 
nMebyou make a Jigurey and endear your/elf to the it. orld : and I had 
ret her you nvere a contemptible cypher. The pfiet jeerns to we to Latfe 
thai irite proverbial /enttment in his eye, qur.tcd from Jtttlius, by the 
punger Fliny and others ; fatius eft ociofum efle quam nihil agcre. 
But Olinjery in the pervcr/ene/s of his diffojition, luonld re*verje the 
ioBrine of the proverb. Does the reader know what all this means ? 

Bot 'tis no matter. I will allure him be nought a luhile is only 

a north-country proverbial curie equivalent to, a mi'chief on y u. 
So the old poet Skclton. 

Correal fir ft t hy felfe, ^walie and be nought, 
JJtgme what thou lift, thou kmixejt nH rny :hcu^h, 

Ct4 But 



132 A S Y O U L I K E I T, 

Ch'la. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat hulks with 
them ? What prodigal's portion have 1 fpcnt, chat I 
Ihould come to fuch penury ? 

Oli. Know you where you are, fir ? 

Orla. O, fir> very well : here in your orchard. 

Oli. Know you before whom, fir ? 

Orla. Ay, better than he, I am before, knows m^, 
I know, you are my eldcfi: brother ; and, in the gently 
condition of blood, you (hould fo know me. The 
courtefy of nations allows you my better, in that you 
arc the firfl-born -, but the fame ^tradition takes not 
away my blood, were there twentjr brothers betwixt 
us. I have as much of my father in me, as you ; al« 
belt, I confefsyour coming before me is nearer to his 
reverence. * 

But what the Oxford editor coold not explain, he woald tffltti^ 
and reads, 

and do aught a 'while ^ Wa IL B U I TOir. ' 

If ht nought a mohilt has the fignification here given it, theieiAi 
ing may certainly fland ; but till I learned its meaning from tkti 
note, 1 read. 

Be better emphytd, and he naught a while. 
In the fame fcnfc as we fay, // // bitter to do mifchiif^ thmn tod»u^ 
th ttg, Johnson, 

Notwithftanding Dr.Warburton's far-fetched explanation, I b*. 
lievc that the words he nought a *ivHU mean no more than thb, 
£c content to he a c\pber till I jhall think fit to elevate you intO€9n^ 
quetice. Stm:vi;ns. 

* y/Mf/V, / -. -fr/s yrur^ ctmlng befr,-e me is nemret to his tETl- 
RENCE.J In!, .3 fcnfe indeed, and may be thus underflood.— 
The rcvtrencc due to my father is, in fomc degree, derived to 
you, as the firft-born— Bjt I am pcrfuaded that Orlando did not 
here mean to complimfnt his brother, or condemn himfelf ; fome- 
thmg of ooih which thrre is in that frnfe. I rather think he in- 
tended a fatirical rcfla'^ion on his brother, who bv letting him M 
nitth his hi. (is. trcpted him as one not fo nearly related to old fir 
Rowland as himfelf was. I imagine therefore Shakefpeare might 

^virc, alheit your ccm.xg In'fore me is ntarer his revenue, i.e. 

though you are no nearer in blood, yet it muft be owned, indeedp^^ 
yoiiarc ncaruin cilaic. War burton. 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 233 

!r. What, boy ! [menachig with Lis band, 

-la. Come, come, elder brother, you are too 
ig in this. [collaring bim. 

i. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain ? 
la. 1 am no villain : M am the youngeft fon of 
owland de Boys ; he was my father, and he is 
e a villain, that fays, fuch a father begot villains. 
c thou not my brother, I would not take this 

from thy throat, 'till this other had pulled out 
ongue for faying fo -, thou haft raiPd on thyfelf. 
iam. Sweet mafters, be patient ; for your father's 
mbrance, be at accord, 
jf. Let me go, I fay. 

la. I will not, 'till I pleafe. You (hall hear me. 
•My father charg'd you in his will to give me 
i education : you have train'd me up like a pea* 

obfcuring and hiding from me all gentleman- 
qualities. The fpirit of my father grows ftrong 
ic, and I will no longer endure it : therefore al- 
ine fuch exercifes as may become a gentleman, 
ve me the poor allottery my father left me by 
ment -, with that I will go buy my fortunes. 
/. And what wilt thou do ? beg, when that is 
:? — Well, fir, get you in. — I will not long be 
)led with you : you (hall have fome part of your 

1 pray you, leave me. 
'la. 1 will no further offend you than becomes 
or my good. 

/. Get you with him, you old dog. 
lam. Is old dog my reward ? Moft true, I have 
ny teeth in your Icrvice. God be with my old 
er, he would not have fpoke fuch a word. 

[Exe. Orlando and Adorn. 

' am no <vil!ainJ] The word 'villaim is ufed by the el Jf r bro* 
10 its prefent meaning, for a ivortfAefty ^ickeii, or Hotufy 
by Orlando in its original fignification, for ti fellow of bafe 
Tian* Johnson. 

Olu 



^34 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

OIL Is it even fo ? — Begin, you to grow upon mc? 
— I will phyfick your ranknefs, and yet give no thou- 
iand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis I 

Enter Dennis. 

Den. Calls your worlhip? 

OH. Was not Charles, the Duke's wrcftlcr, here 
to fpeak with mc ? 

Den. So pleafe you, he is here at the door, and 
importunes accefs to you. 

OIL Call him in, [Exit Dennis.'] 'Twill be a 

good way ; and to-morrow the wreftling is. 

Enter Charles. 

Cba Good-morrow to your worfhip. 

OIL Good monfieur Charles, what's the new ncwi 
at the new court ? 

Cba. There's no news at the court, fir, but the 
old news : that is, the old Duke is banifh'd by his 
younger brother the new Duke-, and three or four 
loving lords have put themfelvcs into voluntary exile 
with him, whofe lands and revenues enrich the new 
Duke, therefore he gives them good leave to wander. 

Oli. Can you tell, if Rofalind, the old Duke's 
daughter, * be banifh'd with her father ? 

Cba, O, no 5 for the new Duke's daughter her 
coufin fo loves her, being ever from their cradles 
bred together, that fhe would have followed her cxiki 
or have died to flay behind her. She is at the court, 
and no lefs beloved of her uncle than his own daugh- 
ter ; and never two ladies loved, as they do. 

OIL Where will the old Duke live ? 

• The oU Djhe*s iiaughttr,'\ , The words old and mv) whick 
fccm nccefTary to the peripicuity of the dialogue, are ioferted 60IB 
fir T. Hanmcr'i edition. Johnson. 



ASYOU LIKE IT. 23J 

Cba. They fay, he is already in the forcft of Arden, 
nd a many merry men with him ; and there they 
vc like the old Robin Hood of England. They fay, 
lany young gentlemen flock to him every day, and 
ect the time carelcfly, as they did in the golden world. 

Oli. What, you wreftle to-morrow before the new 
)ake? 

Cba. Marry, do I, fir ; and I came to acquaint 
ou with a matter, I am given, fir, fecrctly to undcr- 
:9nd, that your younger brother Orlando hath a dif- 
ofition to come in difguis'd againft me to try a fall, 
"o-morrow, fir, I wreftle for my credit ; and he, that 
fcapes me without fome broken limb, fiiallacquit him 
relL Your brother is but young and tender ; and 
QT your love I would be loth to roil him, as I muft 
or mine own honour, if he come in. Therefore out 
£ my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you 
rithal ; that either you might ftay him from his in- 
endment, or brook fuch difgrace well as he fhall 
un into; in that it is a thing of his own fearch, and 
iltogether againft my will. 

on. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me. 
ehich thou (halt find, I will moft kindly requite. I 
lad myfclf notice of my brother's purpofc herein, and 
lavc by under hand means laboured to diflTuade him 
torn it ; but he is refolute. I tell thee, Charles, he 
s the ftubborneft young fellow of France ; full of 
unbition, an envious emulator of every man's good 
parts, a fecret, and villainous contriver againft me his 
natural brother. Therefore ufe thy difcretion •, I had 
as lief thou didft break his neck, as his finger. And 
thou wert beft look to*t j for if thou doft him any 
(light difgrace, or if he do not mightily grace him- 
fetf on thee, he will praftife againft thee by poifon ; 
entrap thee by fome treacherous device : and never 
Icjive thee, 'till he hath ta'cn thy life by fome indi- 

reft 



2j6 A S Y O U L I K E I T- 

rcA means or other : for, I aflure thee, (and aknoft 
with tears I fpeak it) there is not one fo young and 
fo villainous this day living. I fpeak but brotherly 
of him ; but (hould I anatomize him to thee as lie 
is, I muft blufh and weep, and thou muft look pak 
and wonder. 

Cha. I am heartily glad, I came hither to you. If 
he come to-morrow, I'll give him his payment: if 
ever he go alone again, I'll never wreftlc for priic 
more. And fo, God keep your worfhip. [£ttf. 

on. Farewel, good Charles. Now will I ftir this 
gamefler : I hope, I fhall fee an end of him ; for my 
foul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more thia 
him. Yet he's gentle; never fchooPd, and yetlearned; 
full of noble device; of all forts enchantingly be- 
loved; and, indeed, fo much in the heart of the 
world, and efpecially of my own people, who bcft 
know him, that I am altogether mifprifed. But it 
fhall not be fo long ; — this wrcftler fhall dear all 
Nothing remains but that I kindle the boy thither, 
which now V\\ go about. [£»/• 

SCENE II. 

Changes to an open walk^ before the Duke^s palace. 

Enter Rofalind and Celia. 

Cel.T Pray thee, Rofalind, fweet my coz, be mcrrf- 
X Rof Dear Celia, I (how more mirth than ^ 
am miftrcfsof; and would you yet I were merrier ^ 
Unlcfs you could teach me to forget a banifh'd f^" 
ther, you muft not learn me how to remember am "3 
extraordinary pleafure. ' 

Oil, Herein, I fee, thou lov'ft me not with th^^ 
full weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy b^ 
nifticd father, had banilhed thy uncle, the Duke nr»3 

fath^«i 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 237 

fkther, fothouhadft been ftill with me, I could have* 
taught my love 10 take thy father for mine ; fo wouldft 
thou, if the truth of thy love to me were fo righte- 
oufly tempered, as mine is to thee. 

Rof. Well, I will forget the condition of my eftate^ 
to rejoice in yours. 

CtU You know, my father hath no child but I, 
nor none is like to have ; and, truly, when he dies, 
thoo (halt be his heir : for what he hath taken away 
from thy father perforce, I will render thee again in 
tfieftion; by mine honour, I will ; — and when 1 break 
diat oath, let me turn monfter. Therefore, my fweet 
Rofe, my dear Rofe, be merry. 

ttaf. From henceforth I will, coz, anddevifc fports : 
let me fee — What think you of falling in love ? 

Crf. Marry, I pry*thee, do, to make fport withal : 
bur love no man in good carneft ; nor no further in 
fport neither, than with fafety of a pure bluih thou 
may*ft in honour come off again. 

ife?/ What fhall be our fport then ? 

CtL Let us fit and mock the good houfewife For* 
tunc from her wheel, ' that her gifts may be hence- 
forth be beftowcd equally. 

Rof. I would, we could do fo ; for her benefits arc 
mightily mifplaced : and the bountiful blind woman 
doth mod millake in her gifts to women. 

» '»mockihegd94l hstt/iwf/d Fortunt from hir nvhetl,] The 

wlicel of Fortune is not the ivhitl of a bou/tiuife. Shakefpeare 
kat confounded Fortune, whofe wheel only figures uncertainty and 
TiciiTitude, with the Deflinv that fpins the thread of life, though 
indeed not with a wheel. Joh nson. 

Shakefpeare is very fond of this idea. He has the fame in An- 
thony and Cleopatra : 

and rail fo high^ 

That lltfaljt b^uftiwifi Fo/tune br:ak bir 'whuL 

St£S?£KS. 

Cel. 



238 A S Y O U L I K E I r. 

Cel 'Tis true : for thofe, that Ihe makes fair, ttA 
fcarce makes honefl : and thofe, that Ihe makes ho- 
neft, Ihe makes very ill-favour'dly, 

Rof. Nay, now thou goeft from Fortune's office to 
nature's : Fortune reigns in gifts of the workl, not in 
the lineaments of nature. 

Enter Toucbftone^ a clown. 

Cel. No ! when nature hath made a fair creature, 
may (he not by fortune fall into the fire ? Though 
nature hath given us wit to flout at fortune, hath not 
fortune fent in this fool to cut off the argument ? 

Rof. Indeed, there is fortune too hard for nature} 
when fortune makes nature's natural the cutter off of 
nature's wit. 

Cel. Peradventurc, this is not fortune's work nei- 
ther, but nature's j who, perceiving our natural wits 
too dull to reafon of fuch GoddelTes, hath fent this 
natural for our whetftone : for always the dulnefs of 
the fool is the whetftone of the wits. How now, wit ? 
whither wander you ? 

Clo. Miftrefs, you muft come away to your fathen 

Cel. Were you made the meflenger ? 

Clo. No, by mine honour ^ but I was bid to come 
for you. 

Rof. Where learned you that oath, fool ? 

Clo. Of a certain knight that fwore by his honour 
they were good pancakes, and fwore by his honour the 
muftard was naught. Now, I'll ftand to it, the pan- 
cakes were naught, and the muftard was good, and 
yet was not the knight forfworn. 

Cel. How prove you that in the great heap of your 
knowledge ? 

Rof. Ay, marry ; now unmuzzle your wifdom. 

Clo. Stand you both forth now: ftroke your chins, 
ajid fwear by your beards that I am a knave. 

Cel. By our beards, if we had them, thou art# 

Ck. 



A S Y O U L I K E I T- 299 

Clo. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were : but 
Fyou fwear by that that is not, you are not forfworn : 
10- more was this knight fwearing by his honour, 
or he never had any ; or if he had, he had fworn ic 
.way, before ever he faw thofe pancakes or thac 
auftard« 

Cel. Pr'ythce, who is that thou mean'ft ? 

Clo. ' One, that old Frederick your father loves. 

CeL My father's love is enough to honoui: him : 
—enough ! fpeak no more of him, you'll be whipt 
for taxation, one of thefe days. 

Clo. The more pity, that fools may not fpeak wifely 
Rfhat wife men do foolifhly. 

Cel. By my troth, thou fay'ft true: for finccthe 
little wit that fools have, was filenc*d, * the little fool- 
ery that wife men have, makes a great fhow. Here 
comes Monfieur Le Beau. 

Enter Le Beau. 
Rof. With his mouth full of news. 

■ Clo. Ont that old Fndtrick yur fathit lews. 

Rof. My father's lo'Ui is enough t§ honeur him ;] 
"His reply to the Clown is in all the books placed to Rofalind'; 
but Frederick was not her father, but Celia's : I have therefore 
natared to prefix the name of Celia. There is no countenance 
fiom any paiTage in the play, or from the Dramatis Perfons, to 
iaiagine» that Both the Brother-Dukes were Namefakes; and 
One call'd the Old, and the Other the Younger Frederick ; and, 
without fome fuch authority, it would make confufion to fuppofe 
it. Theobald. 

Mr. Theobald feems not to know that the Dramatis Perfonae 
^fttt firft enumerated by Rowe. Johnson. 

* '^JSnce the little njoit that foels hante *was filenc^d^ Shake, 
rpeare probably alludes to the nftoi f^ols qt JeAtrs^ who for fome 
figes had been allowed in all courts an unbridled liberty of cen- 
tre and mockery, and about this time began to be lefs tolerated. 

Johnson. 

Cel. 



i240 AS YOU LIKE IT* 

Col. Which he will put on us^ as pigeons feed their 
young. 

Rof, Then fliall we be news-cramm*d. 

CeL All the better; we (hall be the more marketable. 
Bon jour, Monficur le Beau ; what news ? 

Le Beau. Fair princefs, you have loft much good 
fport. 

CeL Sport ? of what colour ? 

Le Beau. What colour, madam ? How (hall I an* 
fwer you ? 

Rof. As wit and fortune will. 

Clo. Or as the deftinies decree. 

Cel. Well faid -, that was laid on with a trowel. * 

Clo. Nay, if I keep not my rank, 

Rof. Thou lofeft thy old fmell. 

Le Beau. You amaze me, ladies : ♦ I would hate 
told you of good wreftling, which you have loft the 
fight of. 

Rof. Yet tell us the manner of the wreftling. 

Le B:au. I will tell you the beginning, and, if it 
pleafe your ladyfhips, you may fee the end ; for the 
beft is yet to do ; and here where you are, they are 
cpming to perform it. 

CeL Well, — the beginning, that is dead and buried. 

Le Beiiti. 1 here comes an old man and his thrca 
fons,— — 

Cel. I could match this beginning with an old tale. 

Le Beau. Three proper young men, of excellent 
growth and prel'cncc •, — — 

^ '"•'^laid on li^ith a froivel,] I Tuppofc the meaning is, tliC 
there is too heavy a maf:, of big words laid upon a flight rufcied. 

JoHK»oir. 

* Veu rina::i mty UtiiiS.'] To tfWAyf, here, is net to ailoni(h Of 
flrike Willi uoiuler, but to perplex ; toconfulc; a5, to put out 0/ 
the ktcndcd narraiivc. Johnson. 

H 



A S t O U L I K e: 1 t. 241 

Apf* With bills on their necks : Be it known unto 
I men by tbefe prefents^ ^— ^ — 
Le Beau. The eldcft of the three wreftled with 
Mrles the Duke's wreftlcr j which Charles in a mo- 
ent threw him, and broke three of his ribs, that 
ere is little hope of life in him: fo he fcrv*d thefe- 
«d, and fo the third. Yonder they lie ; the poor 
d man, their father, making fuch pitiful dole 
rer them, that all the beholders take his part with 
ecping. 

Rof. Alas! 

Clo. But what is the fport, Monfieur, that the la-^ 
ies have loft ? 

Le Beau. Why this^ that I fpeak of. 

do. Thus men may grow wifer every day ! It is 
le firft time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was 
XNt for ladies. 

CeL Or I, I prortiife thee* 

Rof. But * is there any elfe longs to fee this broken 

mufick 

' Witb BILLS «fi thir ntth : Be it ihtrwn unto all men by thtfi pre- 
%iti ■ ■ ] The ladies and ihe/ool, according to the mode of 
rit at that time, are at a kind of cro/s furpofes. Where ihe words 
fonefpeakerarewreiied by another, in a repartee, to a diiferent 

leining. As where the Clown fays ju ft before Nay^ if t 

npmtny rank. Rofalind replies //. ou lojeji thy oldfmtll. So 

-ere when Rofalind had faid, With hills on their nuks, the Clown, 
)beqaits with her, puts in, Kficiv all men hy theft pre fints. She. 
poke of an inftrumentof war, and he turns ic to an inllrunient of 
iw of the fame name, beginning with thefe words : fo that they 
DOft be given to him. War burton. 

This conjeAure is ingenious. Where meaning is fo very thin# 
J in this vein of jocularity, it is hard to catch, and therefore I 
:ftQW not well what to determine ; but [ cannot fee why Rofalind 
lioild foppofe, that the competitors in a wreflling match carried 
k/l!r on their (houlders, and 1 believe the whole conceit is in th<i 
x»r refemblance of prrfnce and prefents. Joh nson. 

• —1/ there any tlje longs to silm this broken mufick in his fides f ] 
A ftnpid error in the copies. They are talking here of fome who 
bad their ribs broke in wreflling : and the pleafantry of Rofalind's 

Vofc. 111. K re- 



242 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

mufick in his fides ? is there yet another rfoats upon 
rib-breaking? Shall we fee this wreftling, coufin? 

Le Beau. You muft if you ftay here-, for here is the 
place appointed for the wreftling, and they arc ready 
to perform it. 

Cel. Yonder, fure, they are coming. Let ws now 
ftay and fee it, 

Flourijh. Enter Duke Frederick^ Lordsy Orlando^ Cbarks^ 
and attendants. 

Duke. Come on. Since the youth will not be en- 
treated, his own peril on his forwardnefr. 

Rof. Is yonder the man ? 

Le Beau. Even he. Madam. 

CeL Alas, he is too young : yet he looks foc- 
cefsfuHy. 

Duke. How now, daughter and coufin .? arc fM 
crept hither to fee the wreftling? 

Rof. Ay, my liege, fo pleafe you give us leave. 

Duke. You will take little delight in it, I can tell 
you, there is fuch odds in the ^ men : in pity of the 
challengers youth, I would fain diffuade him, butfcc 

repartee mud confid in the allufion fhe maices to C9mp9/iiig\hw»' 

Jick, It neceflarily follows therefore, that the poet wrote sit 

this broken mufick in bis fidts. W a r B u r ton . 

If any change were neceflary, J (hould write, /?#/ this irM' 
mufick^ foT fet. But y^/ is the colloquial term for perception or 
experiment. So we fay everjt day, fee i^ the water be hot ; I will 
fet which is the bed time ; (he has tried, arid fees that (he cannot 
lift it. In this knCc/ee may be here ufed. The fuffcrcr can, widi 
no propriety, be faid toy^/ the mufick ; neither is the allufion ta 
the a£l of tuning an inflrument, or pricking a tune, one of whicti 
inu(t be meant by fetting mufick. Rofalrnd hints at a whimlial 
iimilitude between the (eries of ribs gradually (hortening, vA 
fome mufical inilrumeots, and therefore calls broktm ribs, bnk» 
mufick, Johnson. 

7 f,jjs in the men.] Sir T. Hanmcr. In the old editioUr 

^^ man. Johnson. 

wilf 



A S Y b U LI K E i ^. i4j 

lOt be entreated. Spea}c to him, ladies, fee if yoti 
nove him. 

I Call him hither, good Monfieur Le Beaii. 
tke. Do fo. ril riot be by. [Duke goes apart. 

Beau. Monfieur the challenger, the princefTes 
or you. 

Ut. I attend them with all refpeft and duty. 
/". Young man, have you challenged Charles the 
ler? ^ 

la. No, fair princefs, he is the general challenger : 
le but in, asothers do, to try with him the ftrength 
f youth. 

I Young gentleman, your fpirits are too bold for 
years. You have feen cruel proof of this man's 
jth. If you faw yourfelf with your tytSy • or 

yourfelf with your judgment, the fear of your 
iture would counfel you to a thovt equal enter- 
We pray you, for your own fake, to embracd 
own fafcty, and give over this attempt. 
f. Do, young fir; your reputation (hall not therc^ 
bt mifprifed. We will make it our fuit to the 
•, that the wreftling might not go forward. 
!iy. ^ I befeech you, punifh me not with your 

■ i/ you /aw yourfilf *witb your tytsi or ^^'w yourfilf 
'OVKjtu/gment,] Abfiird ! The fenfe requires that we 
r^d, OUR iyeij and o\3fi judgment. The argument is, 
^irits are too boldf and tbtref ore your judgment deeeivU you ; 
ym/ee dud know your/tif with our more impartial judgment 4 
Mforbear. WarburTOn. 

snot ftfid the abfurdity of the prefcnt reading. If you were 
idid and intoxicated, fays the princefs, <witJb the fpirit of 
\fi^ if you eould ufe your own eyes to fee^ or your owii 
snt to know yourfelf , the fear of youf adventure *would coun» 

Johnson. 
tefeecb youy funifh me mt, &C.] I fhould wiffi to read, / 
yoUf punijh me not iju th yovr bard thoughts. l*herein / 
msftlf much guilty to deny fo fair and excellent ladies any 
joHMyON. 

R 2 hard 



244 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

hard thoughts, wherein I confefs mc much guilty, to 
deny fo fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let 
your fair eyes and gentle wifhes ^o with me to my 
trial ; wherein if I be foiFd, there is but one (ham^d 
that was never gracious i if kill'd, but one dead that 
is willing to be fo. I (hall do my friends no wron^ 
for I have none to lament me ; the world no injury, 
for in it I have nothing *, only in the world I fill up 
a place, which may be better fupplied whenl have 
made it empty. 

Rof. The little ftrength that I have, I would it 
were with you. 

Cei And mine to eke out hers. 

Rof. Fare you well. Pray Heaven I be deceived it 
you. 

Cel. Your heart's defires be with you ! 

Cba. Come, where is this young gallant, that is fo 
defirous to lie with his mother earth? 

Orla. Ready, fir. But his will hath in it a more 
modeft working. 

Duke. You fliall try but one fall. 

Cba. No — I warrant your grace ; you fhall noteo- 
treat him to a fecond, that have ib mightily perfuaded 
him from a firft. 

Orla. You mean to mock me after; you (hould not 
have mocked me before -, but come your ways. 

Rof. Now, Hercules be thy fpeed, young man I 

Cel I would I were invifible, to catch the ftioof 
fellow by the leg ! [tbey wr^ 

Rof O excellent young man ! 

Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I cantdl 
who (hould down. \f^ 

Duke. No more, no more. [Cbarks istbrtiwB. 

Orla. Yes, I befcech your grace : 1 am not ^ti 
well breathed. 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 24$ 

Duh. How doll thou, Charles ? 
Li Beau. He cannot fpeak, my lord. 

Duke. Bear him away .—What is thy name, young 
man? * 

Orla. Orlando, my liege, the youngcft fon of fir 
Rowland de Boys. 

Duke. I. would, thou hadft been fon to fome man 
, elfe! 
The world eftcem'd thy father honourable, 
But I did find him Hill mine enemy : 
Thou fhouldft have better pleas'd me with this deed, 
Hadil thou defcended from another houfe. 
But fare thee well, thou art a gallant youth ; 
—I would, thou hadft told me of another father. 

[Exii Duke^ with bis train. 

Manent Celia^ Rofalindy Orlando. 

CeL Were I my father, coz, would I do this ? 

Orla. I am more proud to be fir Rowland's fon, 
Hisyoungeftfon^ and would not change that calling 
To be adopted heir to Frederick. 

Rof. My father lov*d fir Rowland as his foul, 
And all the world was of my father*s mind : 
Had I before known this young man his fon, 
I Ihould have given him tears unco entreaties, 
Ere he ihould thus have ventured. 

CeL Gentle coufin, 
Let us go thank him and encourage him : 
My father's rough and envious difpofition 
Sticks me at heart. Sir, you have well deferv'd : 
If you do keep your promifes in love. 
But juftly as you have exceeded all promife. 
Your mifl:refs fliall be happy. 

Rof. Gentleman, 

R 2 » Wear 



i46 A S Y O U L I K E I T, 

Wear this for mc ; one out of fujts with Fortune ; * 
That could give more, but that her hand lacks means, 
! — Shall we go, coz ? 

[Giving bim a chain from her neck, 
Cel. Ay : — Fare you well, fair gentleman. 
Orla. Can T not fay, I thank you ? — —My better 
parts 
Are all thrown down-, and that, which here Hands up, 
Is but a quintaine, * a mere lifelefs block. 
Rof. He calls us back : — my pride fell with my 
fortunes, 
ril a(k him what he would. — Did yoi4 call, fir ? — 
Sir, you haye wreftled well, and overthrown 

-^ne out of fuits tvith Fortune.] This ieem^ an allafioi 



to cards, where he that has no more cards to play of any ptm« 
pular fort is out of fuit. Johnson. 

Out of fuits vfith Fortune^'\ I believe means tarned out of \n 
fervice, and ftripp'dof her livery. Steevens. 

* // but a quintaine, a meer UfeUf block,'] A qmntaimliii% 
foft or butt fet up for feyer;il kinds of mart;al exercifcs, aeaiji4 
Which they threw their darts and exercifed their arms. The il: 
lufion is beautiful, / am^ fays Orlando, only a quintaine, a BJt* 
lefi block on nubicb lo*ve only exercifa bis arms in jgfi ; the gffat ifi 
parity cfcgndition bet*ivtiH Rofalind and mtf not Juffering mttobnH 
that lo'vt nuill fver make a ferious matter cf it. The famous (all* 
j-ift Rcgnier, who lived about the time of our author, ufes the 
fame metaphor, on the fame fubjeft, thp* the thought be di^ 
ferent. 

Et qui depuis dix ans jufju^en fes derniers jours^ 

A Jout. nu le p*'ix > n P e'en me d* amours ; 

taj/e en fn de fervtr au feupU de QUINTAINE, 

£//#, &c. War BURTON. 

This if but an impcrfefl (to call it no worfc) explanation of t 
beautiful paflage. The quintaine was not the objed of the dirtf 
^knd arms : \% was a Aake driven into a £eld, upon which woe 
hung a fhield and other trophies of war, at which they fliot, dart- 
ed, or rode, with a lance. When the (hicld and the trophies 
were all thrown down, the quintaine remained. Without dii^ 
information how could the reader undcrfland the alloiion of 



** ' my belter parts 

f* Arc all thrown do^yn ;" Critical Review. 

More 



A S y O U L I K E I T, 247 

than your enemies. 
. Will you go, C02 ? 
C Have with you : — Fare you well 

[Exeunt Refalind and Cilia. 
Sd. What paflion hangs thefc weights upon my 

tongue ? 
ttot fpeak to her ; yet (he urg*d conference. 

Enter Le Beau. 

)r Orlando ! thou art overthrown ; 
harles, gr fomething weaker, n)a(lers thee. 
Beau. Good fir, I do in friendlhip counfel you 
:avc this place. Albeit you have dcfcrv*d 
commendation, true applaufe, and love -, 
jch is now the Duke's condition, * 
he mifconftrues all that you have done. 
Duke is humourous ; what he is, indeed, 
fuits you to conceive, than me to fpeak of. 
!». I thank you, fir : and, pray you, tell xnt 

this ; 
h of the two was daughter of the Duke 
here was at the wreftling ? 
Beaji. Neither his daughter, if we judge by 

manners ; 
et, indeed, the fliorter is his daughter. 
)ther is daughter to the banifh'd Duke, 
derc detain'd by her ufurping uncle, 
cep his daughter company ; whofe loves 
learer than the natural bond of fillers, 
can tell you, that of late this Duke 
ta*en difpleafure *gainft his gentle niece i 
nded upon no other argument, 
lat the people praife her for her virtues, 

I the Duke^s fOMifi/iony] The word conJitUn mean* 

ker, temper, difpofition. So Anthonio the merchant of Ve- 
j called by his friend the be ft condUiomd m^n* Johnson. 

R 4 And 



348 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

And pity her for her good father's fake ; 
And, on my life, his malice *gainft the lady 
Will faddcnly break forth.-^Sir, fare you well; 
Hereafter, in a better world than this, 
I fhall defire more love and knowledge of you. 

lExit. 
Orla. I reft much bounden to you : fare yc well! 
Thus muft I from the fmoke into the fmother ; 
From tyrant Duke unto a tyrant brother: 
Put, heavenly Rofalind ! [Exit, 

S C EN E III. 

jin apartment in the palace. 
Enter Celia and Rofalind. 

Cel. Why, coufin ; why, Rofalind ; — Cupid bavo 
mercy ! — not a word ? 

Rof. Not one to throw at a dog, 

Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be 'caft 
gway upon curs ; throw fome of them at me ; come, 
lame me with reafons. 

Rof. Then there were two coufins laid up ; when 
the one fhonld be l?m'd with reafons, and the other 
mad wiihout any. 

Cel. But is all this for your father? 

Rof No, fome of it is for my child's father. ♦ Ob| 
how full of briars is this working-day world ! 

CeL They are but burs, coufin, thrown upontbcc 
i:i holiday foolery •, if we walk not in the troddenpaihs, 
our very petticoats will catch them. 

Rof 1 could (hake them off my coat j thefc burs 
arc in my heart. 

Cel. Hem them away. 

♦ for my fat her* s ch l^,] The old editions have it, for»f 

coild^s futhiry that is, as it is explained by Mr. Theobald, ^^ 
nij future hujh and. jOHNSoN. • ' 



A S y O U L I K E I T. 249 

Rcf. I would try J if I could cry, hem, and have 
m. 

Cel. Come, come, wreftle with thy affeftions. 
Rof. O, they take the part of a better wreftler than 
yfelf. 

Cel. O, a good wifti upon you ! you will try in 
me, in dcfpight of a fall. — But turning thefe jefts 
jt of fervice, let us talk in good earned. Is it pof- 
ble on fuch a fudden you (hould fall into fo ftrong a 
king with old fir Rowland's youngeft fon ? 
RoJ. The Duke my father lov*d his father dearly. 
Cel. Doth it therefore enfue, that you fhould love 
is fon dearly ? By this kind of chafe, * I (hould hate 
im, for my father hated his father dearly ; yet I 
ate not Orlando, 

fiof. No, faith, hate him not, for my fake. 
Cel. Why ihould I ? doth he not deferve well ? 

Enter Duke^ with loftB. 

Rof. Let me love him for that ; and do you love 
im, becaufe I do : — Look, here comes the Duke. 

Cel. Whh his eyes full of anger. 

Duke. Miftrcfs, difpatch you with your fafeft h^fte, 
Lnd get you from oyr court. 

Rof. Me, Uncle? 

Duke. You, coufin : 
Vithin thcle ten days if that thou be'ft found 
\o near our publick court as twenty miles, 
rhou died for it. 

Rof. I do bcfeech your grace, 
jti me the knowledge of my fault bear with me : 



« r-hy this kind of chafe y] That is, by this way of /cA 

iMor'ffj the argument. D^ar is ufed by Shakefpeare in a double 
fcnfc, for hclo'vedy and for hurtfu\ hattd^ La'tul. Both fcnfcs 
are authorifed, and both drawn from etymology, but properly hf 
kveJ is diatj and battful is dert. Rofalind ufes dtarly m the good« 
||u) Qeli^ in t^e bad fenfet Jounson. 

If 



250 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

If with myfclf I hold intelligence. 
Or have acquaintance with my own defines ; 
If that I do not dream, or be not frantick, 
(As I do trult, I am not) then, dear uncle, 
Never, fo much as. in a thought unborn 
Did I offend your highnefs. 

Duke. Thus do all traitors % 
If their purgation did cohfift in words. 
They are as innocent as grace itfelf. — 
Let it fuffice thee, that I truft thee not. 

Rof. Yet your miftruft cannot make mc a traitor: 
Tell me whereon the likelihood depends. 

I)uk0. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's 
enough. 

Rcf. So was I when your highnefs took his dukc» 
dom; 
So was I, when your highnefs banifh'd him. 
Treafon is not inherited, my lord ; 
Or if we did derive it from our friends, 
"What's that to me? my father was no traitor: 
Then, good my liege, miftake me not fo much, 
To think my poverty is treacherous. 

Cel. Dear fovereign, hear me fpeak. 

Duke. Ay, Celia, we but ftay'd her for your fake, 
Elfe had fhe with her father rang'd along. 

Cel. I did not then entreat to have her (lay ; 
It was your pleafure, and your own remorfc ; 
I was too young that time to value her. 
But now I know her : if (he be a traitor. 
Why fo am I; we ftill have (lept together, 
Rofe at an inftant, learn'd, play'd, eat together ; 
And whercfoc'er we went, like Juno's fwans,. 
Still we went coupled, and infeparable. 

Duke. She is too fubtle for thee ; and her fmoothr 
nefs. 
Her very filence and her patience, 
3pealv to the people, and they pity her. 

Thovf 



A S Y O U L I K E I T, 251 

Thou art a fool : flie robs thee of thy name 5 

/Ind thou wilt Ihow more bright, and fcem niorp 

virtuous, * 
When flie is gone. Then open not thy lips: 
Firm and irrevocable is my doom. 
Which I have paft upon her :---She is banilh'd. 

Cd. Pronounce that fentence then on me, my liegcj 
I cannop Ijye out of her company. 

Duie. You are a fool : — You, njece, provide your-p 
felf; 
If you out-ftay the time, upon mine honour. 
And in the greatnefs of my word, you die. 

[^Exeunt Duke^ (^Cf , 

Cel. O Tt\Y poor Rofalind ! where wilt thou go ? 
"Wilt thou change fathers ? I will^give thee mine, 
I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd (han I an). 

RoJ. I have more caufc. 

Cel. Thou haft not, coufin ; 
Pr*ythee, be cheerful : know'ft thou not, the Duke 
j^as banifh'd me his daughter ? 

Rof. That he hath not. 

Cel. No ? hath fiot ? ^ Rofalind lacks then the {ove 

• And thou iviit Jhww mart hrigbt^ and seem more vtriuoui, ] Th it 
ixnplies her to be fome how remarkably defedive in virtue : whi^ 
yns not the fpe^kcr's thought. The poet doubtlefs wrote, 
■ 49nd SHINE more virtuous* 

i. e. her virtues would appear more fplepdid, when the lulbe of 
l&Cr coufin's was away. Warburton. 

The plain meaning of the old and true reading is, that when 
ilie was feen alone, £e would be more noted. Johnson. 
^ — i^^/iW lacks then tbi love 
Wbicb teacbetb ihce that thou and lam one."] 
The poet certainly wrote — lubicb teacbetb me. For if Rofalindr 
bad learnt to think Celia one part of herfelf, fhe could not lack 
tKat love which Celia complains (he does . Warburton. 

Either reading may ftand. The fenfe of the eftabliihed text is 
mx remote or obfcure. Where would be the abfurdity of faying, 
Y^f^know not the Ifiw wbicb ttfcbesjou to do right. Johnson. 

Which 



i52 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

Which teachcth thee that thou and I am one. 
Shall we be fundred ? fhall we part, fwect girl ? 
No, let my father feek another heir. 
Therefore dcvife with me, how we may fly 5 
Whither to go, and what to bear with us : 
And do not feek to take your change • upon you, 
To bear your griefs yourfelf, and leave mc out : 
For by this heaven, no^f at our forrows pale. 
Say what thou canft. Til go along with thee, 
Rof. Why, whither fhall wc? go? 
Cel. To feek my uncle in the foreft of Arden, 
Rof. Alas, what danger will it be to us. 
Maids as we are, to travel forth fo far ? 
Beauty provoketh thieves fooner than gold. 

Cel. rU put myfelf in poor and n:ean attire. 
And with a kind of umber fmirch my face; 
The like do you ; fo (hall we pafs along. 
And never ftir affailants. 

Rof. Were it not better, 
Becaufe that I am more than common tall. 
That I did fuit me all points like a man ? 
Agallaht curtle-ax' upon my thigh, 
A boar-fpear in my hand •, and (in my heart 
Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will) 
ril have a ' fwafhing and a martial outfide ; 
As many other mannifh cowards have. 
That do outface it with their femblances. 

Cel. What fliall I call thee, when thou art a man? 
Roff I'll have no worfe a name than Jove's own 
page -, 
And therefore, look, you call me, Ganimed. 

• tah your change ufionyou,] In all the later editionSi from 

Mr. Rowe's to Dr. Warburton's, cha^ig: is altered to charge^ with* 
OMt any reafon. Johnson. 

» turtle- axtf or cuilacty a broad fword. Johnson. 

» P II have] SirT. Hanmcr, for *w^' II have. Johnsom. 

But 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 253 

ut what will you be caird ? 

CeL Something that hath a reference to my ftate i 
o longer Celia, but Aliena. 

Rof. But, coufin, what if we aflay^d to fteal 
he clownifh fool out of your father's court ? 
/ould he not be a comfort to our travel ? 

CeL He*ll go along o'er the wide world with mc, 
.eave me alone to woo him. Let*s away, 
.nd get our jewels and our wealth together ; 
^cvife the fitteft time, and fafeft way 
*o hide us from purfuit that will be made 
i.fter my flight : now go we in content 
o liberty, and not to banilhment. [^Exeunf. 



A C T IL 8 C E N E L 

ARDEN FOREST. 

Inter Duke fenioTj Amiens^ and two or ibrei lards Uki 
forejiers. 

D u K £ fenior. 

WTOW, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, 
^\| Hath not old cuftom made this life more fweel 
Than that of painted pomp ? Are not thefe woods 
/lore free from peril, than the envious court ? 
ierc feel we but the penalty * of Adam, 

* In former editions. Hen feel 'we not tbt penalty. What «rat 
ic penalty of Adam, hinted at by our poet ? The being feniible 
r tne difference of the feafons. The Duke fays, the cold and 
Beds of the winter feelingly perfuade him^ what he is. How 
oes he not then feel the penalty i Doubtlefs, the text mud be re-^ 
ored as I have corredied it : and 'tis obvious in the courfe of 
lieie notes, how often not and but by mi flake have chang'd place 
n oor author's former editions. Tu boa a ld. 

The 



154 A ^ ir O U L I It E i f / 

The feafons' difference; as, the icy fang. 
And churlifli chiding of the winter's wind; 
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body^ 
Even 'till I (brink with cold, I fmile, and fay. 
This is no flattery : thcfe are coUnfellors, 
That feelingly perfuade me what I am. 
Sweet are the ufes of adverfity. 
Which, like the toad, ugly and venOmOus, 
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head t ' 
An^ this our life, exempt ftom publick haunt, 
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks^ 
Sermons in ftones, and good in every thing. 

Ami. I would not change it. ♦ Happy is youf 
grace. 
That can tranflate the ftubbornnefs of fortune 
Into fo quiet and fo fwect a ftyle. 

Duke Sen. Come, fhall we go and kill us venifon i 
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools. 
Being native burghers of this defert city. 
Should in their own confines, * with forked heads 
Have their round haunches gor'd. 

^ Wbich^ like the toad i ugly and vemmousf 
Wean yet a precious jeivtl in his head :"] 

It was the current opinion in Sbakefpeare's time, thst inthehet^^ 
of an old toad was to be found a flone, or pearl, to which great 
virtues wcreafcribed. This ftone has been often fought, hot no- 
thing has been found more than accidental or perhaps morbid in^ 
durations of the fkull. Johnson. 

In a book called A Green Foreft, or a Natural Hiftory, Sec. bf 
John Maplett, 1567, is the following account of this imaginary 
gem : " In this (lone is apparently feene vcrie often the vcric 
** forme of a tode, with defpottcd and coloured fectc, but thofe 
** ugiye and defufcdly. It is available againft envenoming.*' 

St^EVtNS. 

♦ I iv^uJdttot change if.] Mr. Upton, not without ptobability» ' 
gives thefe words to the Duke, and makes Amiens begin, Haffy 
is your grace, Johnson. 

s — -vith forked heads] i.e. with flrrcw/, the points of w&ch 
were barbed. SxEfiVENS. 

I L9ri4 



A S T O U L I K E I T. i^ss 

I Lord. Indcedj my lord, 

be melancholy Jaqucs grieves at that; 

id, in that kind, fwears you do more ufurp 

lan doth your brother, that hath banifh'd you. 

>.day my lord of Amiens, and myfclf, 

d deal behind him, as he lay along 

ider an oak, whofe antique root peeps out 

K)n the brook that brawls along this wood : 

I the which place a poor fequeftred ftag, ' 

lat from the hunters* aim had ta'cn a hurt, 

d come to languifli ; and, indeed, my lord^ 

iC wretched animal heavM forth fuch groaits 

lat their difcharge did (tretch his.leathern coat 

moftto burfting; and the big round tears 

urs'd one another down his innocent nofe 

piteous chafe : and thus the hairy fool, 

jch marked of the melancholy Jaques, 

K>d on the extrcmeft verge of the fwift brook, 

igmenting it with tears. 

Duke Sen, But what faid Jaques ? 

d he not moralize this fpeftacle ? 

I Lord. O yes, into a thoufand fimilies. 

•ft, for his weeping in the needlcfs ftream ; 

7r Decry quoth he, tbou tnak^Jl a teftament 

worldlings do^ giving thy fum of more 

that which bad too much. Then, being alone, 

ft and abandon'd of his velvet friends ; 

s righty quoth he ; thus mifery doth part 

e flux of company. Anon, a carelefs herd, 

ill of the pafture, jumps along by him, 

id never (lays to greet him : /fy, quoih Jaques, 

leep on^ you fat andgreafy citizens ; 

sjuft thefa/kion: wherefore do you look 

>on that poor and broken bankrupt there ? 

husmoft invedively he pierceth through 

he body of the country, city, court, 

ca, and of this our life : fwearing, that we 

Arc 



a$6 A S Y.O U LIKE It. 

Are mere ufurpers, tyrants, and what*8 worfe^ 
To fright the animals, and to kill them up 
In their aflign'd and native dwelling place. 

Duke Sen. And did you leave him in this conteid^ 
plation ? 

2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and commen^ 
ing» 
Upon the fobbing deer. 

Date Sen. Show me the place ; 
I love to cope him ^ in thefe fuUen fits. 
For then he's full of matter. 

2 Lord. I'll bring you to him ftraight. [£refs/. 

SCENE II. 

THE PALACE. 

Enter Duke Frederick mtb Lords. 

Duke. Can it be poflible that no man faw them ? 
It cannot be. Some villains of my court 
Are of confent and futferance in this. 

1 Lcrd. I cannot hear of any that did fee her. 
The ladies, her attendants of her chamber^ 
Saw her a-bed ; and in the morning early 
They found the bed untreafur'd of their miftrefs. 

2 Lord. My lord, the royni(h clown, at whom b 

oft 
Your Grace was wont to laugh, is alfo miffing. 
Hefperia, the princcfs' gentlewoman, 
Confeflcs, that fhe fecretly o'er-heard 
Your daughter and her coufin much commend 
The parts and graces of the wreftler. 
That did but lately foil the finewy Charles ; 
And fhe believes, where ever they are gone, 

• to ccpt Ifim,] To encounter him; to engage with WiB. 

JOHHSOR. 

That 



> 



A S Y O U L I K E I T, 257 

That youth is furcly in their, company. 

Duke. Send to his brother : fetc|;i that gallant hi-f 
ther ; 
If he be abfent, bring his brother to me^ 
rU make him find him. Do this fuddenly ; 
And let not fearch and inquifition quail 
To bring again thefe foolifii runaways. [Exeufff^ 

SCENE III. 

LIFER'S HOUSE. 

Enter Orlando and Adam. 

OrJa. Who*s there ? 

Adam. What ! my young matter ? Oh, my gentle 
matter. 
Oh, my fweet matter, ^ O you memory 
Of old fir Rowland ! why, what make you here ? 
Why are you virtuous ? why do people love you ? 
And wherefore are you gentle, ttrong, and valiant ? 
Why would you be fo fond to overcome 
The bony * prifer of the humorous Duke ? 



^ Q JOB mmtry] Shakefpeare often ofes mmor^ for 

wtem^i^z^ and Beaumont and Fletcher fometiines. So in tlie Hu- 
morous Lieutenant ; 

" 1 knew then how to feek yontmem$riii.** 
Again, in The Atheift's Tragedy, by C. Tnnier, 1611 : 

** And with his body place that Mituiy 

«• Of noble Charlcmont.'* 
And in Byron's Tragedy ; 

" That ftatue will I prize pad all the jewels 
** Within thecabinet of Beatrice, 
** The mmty of my gTzx^mt.** STtCTim, 
* In the Ibnner editions, Thi bonny pri/e r ] We ihooU 
read BONiY ffri/er. For this wreftler is charafterifed forhii fbtogth 
^nd balk, not for his gaiety or good-humour. WatBVtTOn, 
So Milton, Giafttj ofmightj bone. Joumsoh. 

Vol. III. S Y^y^ 



n 



A 



2?8 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

Your praife is come too fwiftly home before you. 

Know you not, mafter, to fome kindof mea 

Their graces ferve them but as enemies ? 

No more do yours -, your virtues, gentle mafteri 

Are fandificd and holy traitors to you. 

Oh, what a world is this^ when what is comely 

Envenoms him that bears it ! 

Orla, Why, what's the matter ? 

Adam. O unhappy youth. 
Come not within thefe doors ; within this roof 
The enemy of all your graces lives : 
Your brother — (no ; no brother — yet the fon,— 
Yet not the fon ; — I will not call him fon 
Of him I was about to call his father) 
Hath heard your praifes ; and this night he means 
To burn the lodging where you ufe to lie. 
And you within it. If he fail of that. 
He will have other means to cut you off: 
I overheard him, and his pradtices. 
This is no place, this houfe is but a butchery; 
Abhor it, fear ic, do not enter it. 

'Orla. Why, whither, Adam, wouldft thou hw 
me go ? 

Jdam. No matter whither, fo you come not hcf?. 

Orla. What, wouldft thou have me go and btgiBf 
food ? 
Or, with a bafe, and boifterous fword enforce 
A thievifli living on the common road ? 
This I muft do, or know not what to do : 
Yet this I will not do, do how I can ; 
I rather will fubjed me to the malice 
Of a diverted blood, ^ and bloody brother. 

Mnm. But do not fo. I have five hundred crowns 
The thrifty hire I fav*d under your father, 

• — </mmi ilsfiii.] Blood turned out of ihc courfeof nitiH«» 

JOHNIOK* 

Which 



A S Y D U L I K E I T- 259 

hich I did ttorc, to be my foftcr nurfc 
hen fervicc .ihould in my old limbs lie lame, 
id unregarded age in corners thrown, 
ikc tfeat: and He that df^b the ravvos fcedt 
:a, providently caters for the fparrow, 
comfort to my age ! Here is the gold, 
1 this I give you ; let me be your fcrvant j 
10' I look old, yet I am ftrong and lufty 2 
r in my youth 1 never did apply 
tt and rd3e]iious liquors in my blood ; 
Mr did I with unbafhful forehead woo . 
le means of weaknefs and debility ; 
crcfore my age is as a lufty winter, 
)fty, but kindly. Let me go with you j 
do the fcrvice of a younger nrian 
all your bufinefs and neceffities, 
>/#. Oh ! good old man, how well in thee ap» 

pears 
e conftant fervice of the antique world •, 
icn fervice fweat for duty, not for meed ! 
ou art not for the faihion of thefe times, 
icre none will fweat, but for promotion ; 
d, having that, do choak their fervice up 
en with the having. * It is not fo with thee. 
tf poor old man, thou prun'ft a rotten tree, 
at canno^. fo much as a bloflbm yield, 
lieu of all thy pains and hulbandry. 
: come thy ways, we'll go along together; 
d ere we have thy youthful wages fpent, 
.*'J1 light upon fome fettled low content. 
Idam. Matter, go on -, and I will follow thee 
the laft gafp with truth and loyalty. 
»W feventeen years 'till now almoft fourfcore 
re Jived J, but now live here no ipore. 

&?r» nvith /he having,] Even with the premotUn gained by 
ipe is fervice exiinguiihcd. Joiinsok. 

S 2 At 



zSo A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

At fevcntccn years many their fortunes feck ; 
But at fourfcore, it is too late a week : 
Yet fortune cannot rccompence me better 
Than to die well, and not my mailer's debtor. 

SCENE IV. 

Changes td the for eft of At den. 

Enter RofaUnd in hofs cloatbs for Ganimedy CeEa it4 
like ajbepherdefs for Aliena^ and^oucbftone tbeCkmn. 

Rof. O Jupiter I how weary are my fpirits ? * 

Clo. I care not for my fpirits, if my legs were not 
weary. 

Rof. I could find in my heart to difgrace my min'l 
apparel, and cry like a woman : but I muft comfort 
the weaker vefTel, as doublet and hofe ought to (how 
itlelf courageous to petticoat; therefore, counge, 
good Aliena. 

CeL I pray you, bear with me ; I can go no further. 

Clo. For my part, I had rather bear with you, thai 
bear you : ^ yet I Ihould bear no crofs, if I did bctr 
you ; for, I think you have no mony in your purfe 

Rof. Well, this is the foreft of Arden. 

Clo. Ay ; now I am in Arden : the more fool \\ 
when I was at home, I was in a better place -, but 
travellers muft be content. 

* O Jupittr^ hciv merry an my ffirits ^1 And yet, wilki> 
the fpace of one intervening line, flic fays, ihc could find in kff 
heart to difgrace her man's apparel, and try like a woman. Suit, 
this is but a very bad fymptomof the brfjktiifs of Jpirits : nlhff • 
dirc6l proof of the contrary difpofition. Mr. Warburton and l 
concurred in conjcduring it (hould be, as 1 have reformed in the 

text : how weary are my fpirits P And the Clofiii's reply auk* 

this reading certain. Thiobald. ^ 

^ y tt I Jbould htar no crefj^] A irofs was a piece ol 

money ftamped with a crefs. Oa this our author t9 perpctaal^f 
quibbling. Stceven». ^ 

Rof 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 261 

if. Ay, be fo, good Touchftone. Look you, 
comes here \ a young man, and an old| in fo- 
calk. 

Knttr Corin and Silvius. 

\ That is the way to make her fcorn you ftill. 
. O Corin, that thou kncw*ft how I do love her ! 
^ I partly gucfs 5 for I have lov'd ere now. 
. No, Corin, being old, thou canft not guefs, 

in thy youth thou waft as true a lover, 
'er (igh'd upon a midnight pillow : 
F thy love were ever like to mine, 
fure, 1 think, did never man love fo) 
many aftions moft ridiculous 
thou been drawn to by thy fantafy ? 
'. Into a thoufand that 1 have forgotten. 

O, thou didft then ne*cr love fo heartily* 
)U remember'ft not the flighteft folly,* 
ever love did make thee run into, 

I haft not lov'd : 

thou haft not fat as I do now, 

ying the hearer in thy miftrefs* praife, 

haft not lov'd : 

thou haft not broke from company, 
ptly, as my paflion now makes me ; 

haft not lovM :— Oh Phebe, Phebe, Phebe. 

[ExU SiU 

th§u nmtmber'ft not ihi Jlighu ft folly ^ I am inclined to b«- 
lat from this pafTage Suckling took the hint of his fong. 

Honeft lever, ivho/oever. 

If in all thy lovi there i*ver 
Wirt one njuav^ring thought^ tbyfqm$ 
Weri not even, finl the fame. 

Knouu this 

Thou lo<v*fl amifsf 

Jnd to love true 
Thu muJI begin again and love anew^ &C. JoBKSOK. 

S ^ Rof. 



AS Y O i: LIKE IT. 

/::' Alx;- r^>^r £z-p -.^n'd :<!irciis:gof chywoifnd, 
I iij.'*s 07 fir J itiv'r.'ure loiiriC rry own. 

C:. An I r:L-'?- i rerrember, wher I wis in lare, 
I crcxt r^7 :*»orr i:p;r. 2 ficrc, i-c c:i hini take that 
fcr COT 1-5 c'r-'ghii ::; ]ir.z Sr-.:i^ : izc I remember 
the kJi2i^^ ex ner bitlei, - s-.i t.ic cow's dog$ that 
h'?r pretty chcptha.Td* n^d c-.:ik'd : 2nd I rcincmber 
the vrocrrg c: a pc-k.ccd ir.iicai of her; from whom 
I took t^o ccc;, s,7.c zr*\r.z Her them 2gaio, fiid 
r:':iJi *eep:ng tears, //r^rr :i'^} f:r mrr fate. We, 
tha: are true lovers, mn into ilra.igc capers; buttl 
all !i rrcr:il .r. rature, io is all nature in lore, mor* 
tai in i-Alj. ' 

R^.j\ Th ju ''rrik'lT: wlfrr, than thou art Vareof. 

Cj. Nay, I in ill ne'er be aware of mine own wili 
^i:\\ I break nry ihins againft it, 

iK /. Jcr/e ! Jove ! this ftiepherd's paflion is modi 
upon my fdfliion. 

C;. And mint; but it grows fomething ftak witb 
mc*. 

C.L I pr.r.you, one cf you queftion j'on man, 
If he for gold will give us any food ; 
I faint alrr.oi'i to deaih. 

Ch, Holla; you, clown! 

Rr.f. i'cacc, fool ; he's not thy kinfman. 

C.r. Who calls ? 

' — ^■.:.'.' /, ] Ti:e ir.f!:umcn: wl:h which waflicrsbcat 

their coane cloaihs. Johnson. 

'^ tzr'y c':! ] Frr eeJ, it i^-oulJ be nr.cre like feafcto 

read/ffl/, which \.-^\\7.2 the :h-pe of pearls, relemblcd the com- 
incn prccnts cfiovcr;. Joh:.sun. 

^ ,'^ /-■ /'•*■-' r.i'ure :tt e-jty mortal in foVy^ This cxprtffioo 

I do r.ot'v-jll ur-i.-jfiind. In the miadle counties, tnortahit^ 
«.'?•/, a yrrp.i q';'n:ity, is ufod .1: a p. rticle of anipHfication; tf 
fny/cr' .Vi7, tn-i-t.i'. I '/>. Of thii feme I believe Shakefpeart wk« 
nriv2nr::M- r-^ r"''d'jco one of hi; dr.rlir.g equivocations. Thustltf 
nicaiunj uill uc, yi /> alt nature in /r^-^ abounding inf^liy* 

JOHKSOJf* 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 263 

Clo. Your betters, fir. 
Cor. Elfe they arc very wretched.'. 
Rof. Peace, 1 fay: — Good even to you, friend. .. 
Cor. And to you, gentle fir, and to you all. 
Rof. I pr'ythee, fhephcrd, if that love, or gold 
in in this defert place buy entertainment, 
ing us where we may reft ourfelves, and feed : 
cre*s a young maid with travel muchropprefs'd, 
nd faints forfuccour. 
Cor. Fair fir, I pity her-, 
nd wifti for her fake, more than for mine own, 
y fortunes were more able to relieve her : j 

It I am (hepherd to another man, 
Qd do not fhecr the fleeces that I graze ; 
y mafter is of churlifli difpofition, 
id little recks to find the way to heaven 
' doing deeds of hofpitalKty : 
fides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed 
t now on fale ; and at our fheep-cotc now, 
reafon of his abfence, there is nothing 
itt ye will feed on ; but what is, come fee ; 
d- in my voice moft welcome fliall ye be. * 
R,of. What is he, that fhall buy his flock and paf- 

turc? 
>r. That young fwain, that ye faw here but ere- 

while, 
at little cares for buying any thing. 
?<?/. I pray thee, if it ftand with honefty, 
^ thou the cottage, pafture, and the flock, 
d thou flialt have to pay for it of us, 
>/. And we will mend thy wages : I like this place, 
d willingly could wafte my time in it. 
-•r. AlTuredly, the thing is to be fold; 
I with me. If you like, upon report, 

ditd in my voice mod ixjehomt fi\iil ye !e.'\ In my 'voice ^ as far 
have a voice or vote, as far as 1 have power to bid you woi- 
i^v Johnson. 

S 4 The 



f §4 A S Y 6 U L I K E I t. 

The foil, the profit, and this kind of life, 

1 will your very faithful feeder be. 

And buy it with your gold right fuddcnly. [Exeuxt. 

SCENE V. 
Ent£r Amiens J JaqueSj and ethers. 

SONG. 

Under the green-wood tree^ 
Who loves to lie with me^ 
And tune his merry note^ 
Unto thefweet bird^s throaty 
Qomehither^ come bit her ^ come hither i 

Here Jball he fee 

No enen^y 
But winter and rough weather. 

yaq. More, more, I pr*ythee, more. 
Ami. it will majce you melancholy, monficur Jaqudt 
Jaq. I thank it. — More, I pr'ythee, more.— I can 
ifuck melancholy out of a fong, as a weazel fucks cgp\ 
ipore, I pr*ythce, more. 

Ami. My voice is rugged 'j I know, I cannot plcafe 
yqu. 

Jaq. I do not defire you to pleafe me, I do dcfire 
you to fing : come, come, another ftanza ; call you 
'cm ftanzas ? 

Ami. What you will, monfieur Jaques. 
Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names ; they owe 
tnf nothing. — Will you fing ? 

Ami. More at yogr requeft, than to pleafe myfclf* 
Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man. Til thank 
you: but that, they call compliment, is like the en- 
counter of two dog-apes ; and when a man thanki 

^ r^rMigii/t] Id old editioo) ra^^ej. Johnson. 



A S Y O U L 1 K fi 1 T. 26$ 

ic heartily, mcthinks, I have given him a penny, 
id he renders me the beggarly thanks, — Come, fing; 
id you that will not, hold your tongues. ■ .. 

^mi. Well, rU end the fong. Sirs, cover the while; 
-the Duke will drink under this tree : he hath been 
IJ this day to look you. 

Jaq. And I have been all this day to avoid him, 
le is too difputable for my company : I think of as 
lany matters as he j but I give heaven thanks, and 
fi^ke no boaft of them.— Come, warble, comCt •^ 

SONG. 

H^ho dotb ambition Jhun^ 

And loves to lie * i* the fun ^ 

Seeking the food be eats^ 

And pleased with what he gets ; 

Come hither^ come hither^ come hither ; 

Herefhall he fee 

No enemyy 
But winter androi^h weather. 

Jaq. ril give you a verfe to this note, that I m^de 
vefterday in defpight of my Invention. 
Ami. And I'll fing it. 
Jaq. Thus it goes: 

Jf it do come to pafsj 

That any man turn afs ; 

Leaving his wealth andeafe 

A Jlubborn will to pleafe^ 

Due ad me J due ad me^ due ad me*,* 

Here fhall he fee 

Grofs fools as hej - 
Art if he will come to me. 

* ^-^toiii — J Old edition, te live. Johnson. 
. ^ Duiodmf^ — ] For ^ucdamiHrT. Hanmcr, very acutely ard 
hdicioaflyy ttdfis due ad mt. That if, kringbimtomi. JoiiM8o^, 

Amii 



266 A S T O U L 1 K E I T. 

jimi. What's that, due ad me? 

Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to- call fools into a 

circle. I'll go to flecp if I can : if I cannot; Til 

rail againft all the firft-born of Egypt. ^ 

jimL And Til go feck the Duke : his banquet is 
prepared, [Exeunt feveraUj. 

SCENE VI. 

Enter Orlando and Adam. 

Adam. Dear mafter, I can go no further. O, I die 
for food ! here lie I down, and meafure out my grave. 
— Farewel, kind mafter. 

Orla. Why, how now, Adam ! no greater heart in 
thee ? — live a little ; comfort a little ; cheer thyfclf 
a little. If this uncouth foreft yield any thing favagc, 
I will either be food for it, or bring it for food to thee. 
Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers. For 
my fake be comfortable ; hold death a while at the 
arm's end : I will be here with thee prefently ; and 
if I bring thee not fomething to eat, Til give thee 
leave to die : but if thou dieft before I come, thou 
art a mocker of my labour. — Well faid ! — thou look'ft 
cheerly : and Til be with you quickly. Yet thou 
litft in the bleak air ; come, I will bear thee to fomc 
(hclter, and thou (halt not die for lack of a dinner, 
if there live any thing in this dcfert. Checrly, good 
Adam ! {Exeunt. 

SCENE VII. 

Another fart oftbeforejt. 

Enter. Duke Senior and lords. [/f table fet out. 

Duke Sen. I think he is transformed into a beaft, 
For 1 can can no where find him like a man. 

' thtfirfi'horn of Egypt, "l A proverbial exprtffion for 

high-born pcrfons, Jqhksoii. 

I Lord. 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 267 

[ Lord. My Lord, he is but even now gone hence; 

re was he merry, hearing of a fong. 

Duke Sen. If he, compa£l of jars, grow mufical^ 

r fhall have ftiortly difcord in the fpheres. 

» feek him. Tell him, I would fpeak with him. 

Enter Jaques. 

Lord. He faves my labour by his own approach. 
Ouke Sen. Why, how now, monfieur, what a life 

is this, 
at your poor friends muft woo your company ?^ 
lac ! you look merrily. 

^aq. A fool, a fool ! 1 met a fdol i* the foreft, 

notlcy fool !— ra mifcrable world! — ♦ 

I do live by food, I met a fool -, 

10 laid him down and ba(k*d him in the fun, 

i raird on lady Fortune in good terms, 

rood fet terms, — and yet a motley fool. I 

d-mcrrow^ fooU quoth I : — No^ fir^ quoth he. 

me not fooU till Heaven bath fent me fortune : 

i then he drew a dial from his poke ; 

1 looking on it with lack-luftre eye, 

J, very wifely, // is ten a-clock •, 

s may we may fee^ quoth he, how the world wags. 

but an hour ago Jince it was nine \ 

4 motley/ool! — a mifirahU world !] What ! becauCe he met 
ilty fooU 'was it therefore m mifirable worUt This is fadly 
icred ; wc ihould read, 



•-a miferabU v a i L et. 



is head is altogether running on this fool, both before and af- 
icfe words, and here he calls him a miforahU 'variety notwith- 
ing he railtd on lady Fortune in good terms j &C. Nor is the 
gewcmake fo great as appears at firft fight. War burton. 
Ec no need of changing fool to variety nor, if a change were 
(Tary, can I guefs how it fliould certainly be known that var- 
the true word. A miferahU nuorld is a parenthetical exclama- 
frequent among melancholy men, and nataral to Jaques at 
ight of a fool, or at the hearing of reflexions on the fragility, 
re. Johnson. 

Aid 



i68 A S Y O U L I K E I T, 

And after one hour more^ * twill be eleven ; 
Andfo^ from hour to hour^ we ripe and ripe^ 
And iben, from hour to bcur^ we rot and rot. 
And therely bangs a tale* When I did hear 
The motley fool thus moral on the time. 
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, 
That fools fhould be fo deep contemplative ; 
And I did laugh, fans intermiflion. 
An hour by his dial. — O noble fool! 
A worthy fool ! — Motley's the only wear, 

Duke Sen. What fool is this ? 

Jaq. O worthy fool! — One that hath been acourticr; 
And fays, if ladies be but young, aixd fair. 
They have the gift to know it : and in his brain^ 
Which is as dry as the remainder bifket 
After a voyage, he hath ftrange places cramm'd 
With obfervation, the which he vents 
In mangled forms : — O that I were a fool ! 
I am ambitious for a motley coat. 

Dtdke Sen. Thou (halt have one. 

Jaq. It is my only fuit ; ^ 
Provided, that you weed your better judgments 
Of all opinion, that grows rank in them. 
That 1 am wife. I muft have liberty 
Withal; as large a charter as the wind. 
To blow on whom I pleafe ; for fo fools have : 
And they that are moft gauled with my folly. 
They moft muft laugh : And why, fir, muft they fo? 
The wjiy is plain as way to parilh church : 
* He, that a fool doth very wifely hit. 

Doth 

5 Only fuit ;] Suit means petition^ I believe, not drefi, 

JOHNSOIC. 

The poet meant a quibble. So a£l v. «' Not out of your af(^ 
rr/, but out of your y»//. Stbevens. 

• He^ that a fool doth njtry noiftly hit. 
Doth very fooUJbly^ although he fmart, 

Semfenfehfs of the bob. If not , &c.] 

Befidps that the third vexfe is defedive one whole /^^r in meafore, 

tl)f 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. aSj 

)oth very foolilhly, although he fmarc, 

>Jot to feem fenfelefs of the bob. If not, ^ 

The wife man's folly is anatomiz'd 

Blven by the fquandring glances of the fool. 

[nveft me in my motley j give me leave 

To fpeak my mind^ and I will through and through 

I^leanfe the foul body of the infcdled world, 

[f they will patiently receive my medicine. 

Duke Sen. Fie on thee ! I can tell what thou wouldft 
do. 

Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do, but good? 

Duke Sen. Moft mifchievous foul fin, in chiding 
fin : 
For thou thyfclf haft been a libertine, 
As fenfual as the brutilh fting itfelf : ' 
And all the emboffcd fores and headed evils. 
That thou with licence of free foot haft caught, 
Wouldft thou difgorge into the general world. 

Jaq. Why, who cries out on pride. 
That ian therein tax any private party ? 
Doth it not flow as hugely as the fea, 
•Till that the very very means do ebb ? 
What woman in the city do I name. 
When that I fay the city- woman bears 
The coft of princes on unworthy fhoulders ? 

the tenoor of what Jaques continues to fay, and the reafoning of 
the paflage, (hew it is no lefs defe^live in the fenfe. There is no 
^QDty but the two little monofyllables, which I have fupplied, 
were either by accident wanting in the manufoript cr by inadver* 
tcnce were left out. Theobald. 

^ If not f Sec] Unlefs men have the prudence not to appear 

touched with the farcafms of a jeller, they fubjed themfelves to 

Jus power, and the wife man will have his folly anaiomifedy that is 

iifftStd and laid open by the fquandring glana* or random fioti of a 

fool. Johnson. 

• As finfual as the brutijb fling."] Though the hrutijh ftin^ is 
capable of a fenfe not inconvenient in this paffage, yet as it is a 
lurfii and unufual mode of fpeech, I fhould read the trutijhflj. 

Johnson. 

Who 



27Q A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

Whocancomein, and fay, that I mean her. 

When fuch a one as (he, fuch is her neighbour ? 

Or what is he of bafcft function. 

That fays, his bravery is not on my coft ; 

(Thinking, that I mean him) but therein fuits 

His folly to the metal of my fpcech ? 

There then ; how then ? what then ? Let me fee 

wherein 
My tongue hath wronged him : if it do him right. 
Then he hath wronged himfelf : if he be free. 
Why, then, my taxing, like a wild goofe, flics 
Unclaimed of any man. — But who comes here ? 

Enter Orlando^ with /word dratvn. 

Orla. Forbear, and eat no more.— — 

Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet. 

Orla. Nor (halt not, *till neceflity be ferv'd. 

Jaq. Of what kind Ihould this cock come of? 

Duke Sen. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy 
diftrefs; 
Or elfe a rude defpifcr of good manners. 
That in civility thou feem*ft fo empty ? 

Orla. You touched my vein at firft. The thorny 
point' 
Of bare diftrefs hath ta'en from me the fliew 
Of fmooth civility : yet am I inland bred. 
And know fome nurture. But forbear, I fay ; 
He dies, that touches any of this fruit, 
*Till I and my affairs are anfwered. 

Jaq. An you will not 
Be anfwered with reafon, I muft die. 

.9 The thorny point 

Of I are MJire/s has ta'en from me thi Jhi*w 

0/ fmooth civility, ] 
We ftiight read torn with more elegance, but elegance alone ww 
not juftify alteration. Johnson. . 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 271 

Duke Sen. What would you have? Your^gendencft 
Ihall force. 
More than your force move us to gentlcnefs. 

Orla. I almoft die for food, and let me have it. 

Duke Sen. Sit down and feedj^and welconie to our 
table. 

Orla. Speak you fo gently ? — Pardon me, I pray 
you J 
I thought, that all things had been favs^e here ; 
And therefore put 1 on the countenance 
Ot ftern commandment. But whatever you are^ 
That in this defert inacceflible. 
Under the fhade of melancholy boughs, 
Lofe and negled the creeping hours of time ; 
If ever you have looked on better days ; 
If ever been where bells have knoU'd to church ; 
If ever fate at any good man's feaft ; 
If ever from your eye-lids wip'd a tear. 
And known what 'tis to pity, and be pitied; 
Let gcotlenefs my ftrong enforcement be : 
In the which hope I blufh, and hide my fword. 

[Sheathing his fword. 

Duke Sen. True is it, that we have fe^n better days -, 
And have with holy bell been knoH'd to church ; 
And fate at good men's fcafts •, and wip*d our eyes 
Of drops, that facred pity hath engender*d : 
And therefore fit you down in gentlenefs. 
And take upon command what help we have, ' 
That to your wanting may be miniftrcd. 

Orla. Then but forbear your food a little while. 
Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn, 
And give it food. There is an old poor man, 
Who after me hath many a weary ftcp 

* And tale upon command ivh at help tut have. '\ It fcems ncccf- 
itry to read, then takt ufn demand wJuu btlp^ &c. that is» ajk 
ior what we caa fupply, and have it. JbuiisoN. 

Limp'd 



172 A S Y O U L I K fe I t. 

LimpM in pure love ; 'till he be firft fufficM, 
Opprefs'd with two weak evils, age and hunger^ 
I will not touch a bit. 

Duke Sen. Go find him out, 
And we will nothing wade till you return. 

Orla. I thank ye-, and be blefs'd for your good 
comfort! lExii. 

Duke Sen. Thou feeft, we are not all alone ud« 
happy : 
This wide and univerfal theatre 
Frefents more woful pageants, than the fcene 
Wherein we play in. • 

Jaq. All the world's a ftage. 
And all the men and women merely players i 
They have their exits and their entrances ; 
And one man in his time plays many parts. 
His afts being feven ages. . At firft, the infant, 
Mewling and puking in the nurfe's arms : 
And then, the whining fchooUbo^ with his fatchd, 
And fhining morning-face, creepmg like fnail 
Unwillingly to fchool : — And then, the lover-. 
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad 
Made to his miftrefs* eye-brow: — Then, a foldicr: 
Full of ftrange oaths, and bearded like the pard, 
Jealous in honour, fudden and quick in quarrel} 
Seeking the bubble reputation 
Even in the cannon's mouth : — And then, the jufticei 
In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd. 
With eyes feverc, and beard of formal cut. 
Full of wife faws and modern inftances, * 

Ajid 

^ Wherein nve plajf in.] Thus die old copy. Mr. PopeoKlt 

correflly reads, 

Wbtnin tvi play, Stbevbni. 

3 Full offwi/e finws ami modern inpmmisJX It is remarkftble t^t 
Shakefpeare ufes mo^grn in the doable fen^e that the Greeks uit* 
«««M(» DOth for nciMS and abj'mriut. Wak b u rtoit. 



Ai r 6 ti L tkt if. aji 

fo he plays his part .•— Thkf fixth a^ ffiifts* 
the lea* aiW flippePd' pantdoori ; 
( fyHSkcki oh n61t, arrtd pouch oh fMft; 
rouchful bofe well fay'd, a world coo wide 
rtar (Brtirikf fhatik; sittd His big manfjr voice, 
ia^ again towafd childiflf treble, piptjr 
whittles in his found : — Laft fcene of all, 
ends this ftrange <!vertrful' hiftory, 
ond childilhnefs, aMd ibere oblivion ; 
teeth, fans eyes, fans tafte, fans every thing. 

Re-enter Orlando^ with Adam. 

ike Sen. Welcome : Sec down your venerable 

burden, * 
let him feed. 
(a. 1 thank you iHoft for him. 

I in doubt whether modem is in this place ofed for ahfyrJ: 
aning feems to be» that the juiiice is full of «/!f fayings and 
— fta ; JdRMSON. 

rrif itMtis /ri/r, triflings 6r Mot to thi furp^fi. ShaScefiJearc 
Ueintioos in his de of the word. So in K. John ; 

^ And fcorns a modern invocation." 
Jib' play, aAiv. fc. i. 

*« ■ - betray themfelvts to modom cenfure." 

Stisvins. 

♦ Thtfixth agt fiifts 

into tbilemn and pppit^d pdntdUon ;] 

» a greater beauty than appears at £rft fight in this image* 
lierc comparing human life to a Jiage play^ of fevcn aifts 
I was no unufual divifion before our author's time.) The 
c calls the Uan and flipper' d pantaloon^ alluding to that gene- 
iraderin the Itjcliatf corhed)-, cfalled // / an/aline ; who is a 
naciated old man ia flfpptts r and well defigffed, in that 
:, becaufe Pantalone is the only charadter that a£ls in flip* 
Warburton. 

^Stt donvn your 'venerable iurden,] Is it not likely that 
fpeare had in his mind this line of the Metamorphoses ? 
■ Patremque 
Feft tumerif, vfcnefabile onus Cjtbtreius hros, 

JoaKSOir. 

)l. III. T Adam. 



t74 A S Y O U L I K E IT. 

Adam. So had you need, 
I fcarce can fpeak to thank you for mylclf. 

Duke Sen. Welcome, fall to: I wiU nottrouUe 
you. 
As yet, to qucftion you about your fortunes.-^ 
Give us fome mufick ; and, good coufin, fiog. 

Amiens fings. 

S O N G- 

Blow^ blow^ thottvnnter mnd^ 
TIjou art notfo unkind 

As marfs ingratitude ; 
^hy tooth is not fo keen^ * 
Becaufe thou art not feen^ 

Altb(f thy breath he rudi. 

HSih 

' ' Tly tooth is not fi kan^ 

Btcaufi tboii art not /an^] 
This fong is defigned to Atit the Duke*8 exiled condidoai «b 
had been ruined by ungrate/ni fiatttrtrs. NcM¥ die muHr muit 
the fong fays» is to be preferied to man^sinmuitndi. BatlNy^ 
BecoMfo it tj not iERv. But this was not only an aggrtvtftapf 
Che injury, as it was done in fecret, not /an, bat watdie vjRTW* 
cumftance that made the keennefs of the ingratitode of IriiM* 
lefs courtiers. Withont doubt, Shakefpeare wrote the line thii» 

Buanfe thou art «0/ sh B B N, -# 

i. e. fmilingy fhining, like an ungrateful court-fervant, wtolK- 
ters while he wounds, which was a very good reafon tor jpm 
the wnttr Huind the preference. So' in the MidfafflncrlifUi 
Pream, 

SpangUd ftar-Ught s h B B N . 
And feveral other places. Chaucer ufes it in this ienfe. 

Tour blifi/ulfyftor Lncina thi shbnb* 
And Fairfax, 

Thi faeredangil tooi his target shen B, 

jfnd by the Chriftian champion flood nnfeen. 
The Oxford editor, who had this emendation commanidtt^ tO 
him, takes occafton from thence to alter the whole line thos. 

Thou iau/eft not that teen. 

Bod 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 275 

igb bo ! Jingj heigh ho ! unto the green holly ; 
7ft friendjfjip is feigning ; mojl loving mere folly. 

Then heigh ho, the holly I 

This life is moft jolly. 

Freeze, freeze^ thou bitter Jky^ 
That dofi not hitefo nigb 

As benefits forgot : 
* Tho^ thou the waters warpt 
Tbyjling is not fo /harp 
As friend remembered not* 
igb ho ! Jingy &c. 

Duke 

I his rage of corrcftion, he foi^t to leave the rcafon, which 
V wanting, Why the winter «;»W was to be preferred to 
ingratitude, Wa r bur ton. 

m afraid that no reader is fatisfied with Dr. Warbarton's 
lation, however vigoroufly enforced; and it is indeed en« 
with more art than truth. Sbeen^ i. e. fmiiing^ Jhining. 
(bun (igm^tz Jhiningf is eafily proved,, but when or whero 
^gMfy Jmiling i' yct/miling gives the fenfc necefTiry in this 
Sir T. Hanmer's change islefs uncouth, but too remote 
:he prefent text. For my part, I queftion whether the ori- 
line is not loft, and* this fubftituted merely to Rll up the 
res and the rhyme. Yet even out of this line, by llrong agi- 
may fenfe be elicited, and fenfe not nnfuitable to the oc- 
. ihou 'winter wimi^ fays the Duke, t^y rudtntf$ gt<oes the 
tin, as thou art not feen, as then art an enemy that do/l not 
nt nvith thy pre/ence^ andnvhe/e unkindn^/s is thtrefon not 
voted by infult. Johnson • 

ho* tbcu the *u'aferj nvarp^] The furface of w/?//r/, fo long 
f remain unfrozen, is apparently a perfect plane ; whereas, 
they are, this furface deviates from its exa^ flatnefs, or 
. This is remarkable in fmall ponds, the fcVface or wiiich, 
frozen, forms a regolar concave ; the ice on the fides riiing 
-than that in the middle. Kenrick. 
haps the authors of the Critical Review are right in faying, 
' this if an allufion drawn from the operation of weavers, 
VAT/, i. e. /x their worded or yam in their looms before 
/orkit." Steevens. 

mtarp was probably, in Shakefpeare's time, a colloquial 

which conveyed no diftant allufion to any thing elfe, phy- 

f medicinaU To ivarp is to turn, and to turn ]& to change : 

T 2 when 



2/6 A S Y O U L 1 K E I T. 

Duke Sen. If that you were the good fir Rowhmd^s 
fon. 
As you have whifpercd faithfully, you were j 
And as mine eye doth his effigies witnefs. 
Mod truly limn'd, and living in your face. 
Be truly welcome hither. I am the Duke, 
That lov'd your father. The refidue of your fortune 
Go to my cave and tell me. — Good old man. 
Thou art right welcome, as thy mafter is : — 
— Support him by the arm : give me your band, 
And let me all your fortunes underftand. [ExM. 



ACT III. SCENE I. 

THE PALACE. 
Enter Buke^ LordSy and Oliver. 

Duke. 

OT fee him fince? — Sir, fir, that cannot be>^ 



N 



_ But were I not the better part made mercy, 

1 (hould not feek an abfent argument ^ 

Of my revenge, thou prefcnt : But look to kj 

Find out thy brother, wherefoe'er he is ; 

Se^k him with candle : Bring him dead or livingi 

Within this twelvemonth ; or turn thou no more 

To feek a living in our territory. 

Thy lands and all things that thou dofl: call tbiDCi 

when milk is changed by curdling» we now fay, it iiumfij 
when water is changed or turned by froft, Shakefpeare fayt, it ^ 
curdled. To be 'warp^d is only to be changed from iu nititfw 
Hate. JoRNsON. , 

^ An abfent argument f] An argument is nfcd for the nnti^f^ 
a book, thence Shakefpeare confidcred it at meaning xhe/uij'^* 
and then ufed it for /ulje£l in yet another fenfe. Johnson. 

Wortn 



AS Y O U L I K E I T- 277 

li fcizurt, do we (cite into our hands ^ 
thou canft quit thee by thy brother's mouth, 
bat we think againft thee. 

Oh) that your highnefs knew my heart in thi&: 
er lov*d my brother in my life. 
U. More villain thou. Well — pufhhimoutof 

doors I 
et my offices of fuch a nature 

an extent upon his houfe and lands : 
is expediently, ' and turn him going. {^ExeuM* 

SCENE 11. 

THE FOREST. 

' Eiaer Orlandp. 

t. Hang there, my verfe, in witnefs of my love: 

thou thrice-icrowncd queen of night, furvey, '. 

thy chafte eye, from thy pale fphere above, 

f huntrefs' name, that my full life doth fway. 

[alihd ! thefe trees Ihall be my books, 

d in their barks my thoughts V\\ charafter ; 

every eye, which in this forcft looks, 

11 fee thy virtue witnefs'd every where. 

run, Orlando; carve on every tree, 

ur, the chafte, and unexpreflive JQie. * [Exit. 

Enter Corin and Clown. 

, And how like you this fhepherd's life, Mafter^ 
iftone ? 

UiUntlj.] That is, txfi^ithyjlj. Johmson. 
Hci tmvtmtdquein •fni9ht.\ AUudiog to the triple chan6^r 
sipine, Cynthia, and Diana, given by fooie mythologifta 
une Goddefs, and comprifed in thefe memorial lines s 
Ttrrtr, iu/rat, agit^ Pr§firpina^ LmnM, DianMp • 

Ima^ Jupfrma^ firas^ feeftf^ fulgort^fagitiu^ JOHirsOir. 
Vmxprejpvit'] (qt intxfrfJSth. Jpttifsoir. 

T 3 Ch. 



iji AS YOU LIKE i t. 

Clo. Truly, Ihcphcrd, in refi>e£i: of itfelf, itlsj 
good life ; but in refpcd that it is a ihepherd*s life, 
ic is naught. Inrefpedt that it is folitary, I like it v^ 
ry welh but in refpeft that it is private, it is a very 
vile life. Now in refpeA it is in the fields, it pleafeth 
tne well ; but in rcfpeft it is not ih the courts it is te- 
dious. As it is a fpare life, look you, it fits my hu- 
mour well ; but as there is no more plenty in it, it 
goes much againft my ftomach. Haft any philofo- 
phy in thee, Ihepherd ? 

Cor. No more, but that I know, the more one 
fickens, the worfe at eafe he is *, and that he, dut 
wants mony, means, and content, is without dirce 
good friends : — That the property of rain is to wet, 
and fire to burn : that good pafture makes fat Iheepf 
and that ^ great caufe of the night, is the lack of 
the fun : that he, that hath learned no wit by oacuit 
nor art, * may complain of good breeding, or comci 
of a very dull kindred. 

Clo. Such a one is a natural philofophcr : ♦ Waft 
ever m court, Ihcphcrd ? 

* & that both karn$4 mo wit iy nmture or art^ mmj f$w^m tf 
eoOD breidhgt or comts rf 'very dull kitulriJ,^ Common fcflfc 1% 
quires us to read, 

may eomflain ofr^%o%% hreeding. 
The Oxford editor has greatly improved this emendation by read* 

ing, ', had breeding, W a a b u R ton. 

I am in do^ibt whether the cuftora of the language in Sbtke- 
fpeare's time did not authorife this mode of fpeech, andvakl 
iomplain of good breeding the fame with eomplaU of the Wtntof 
good breeding. In the laft lipe of the Merchant of Venice wt fad 
that to fiar the keeping is to fear the not keeping. JOHIHOII. 

♦ Suehaont is a natural pbihfipher,'] The fhepherd hadfridiD 
the philofophy he knew was the property of things, that ri/i 
mjetted^ fire burnt, &c. And the Clown's reply, in a (aore oa 
phyficks or natural philofophy, though introdaccd with tqoibUCf 
is rxu-emely juft. For the natural pbilofopher is indeed as igiKH 
norant (notwithllanding all his parade of knowledge) cfihctf^ 
fi^Mi caufe of things, ai the xuftic, It appears, from a thoufanJ 

inftancesi 



A S Y O U L I K E I t. 279 

r. No, truly. 
h Then thou art damn'd. 
r. Nay, I hop e 

K Truly, thou art damn'd, like an ill-roafted egg,' 
I one fide. 

K For not being at court ? Your reafon. 
K • Why, if thou never waft' at court, thou nc- 
iw'ft good manners ; if thou never faw'ft good 
icrs, then thy manners muft be wicked ; and 
^nefs is fin, and fin is damnation : thou art in 
bus ftate, fhepherd. 

'• Not a whit, Touchftone: thofe, that are 
manitfrs at the court, are as ridiculous in the 
ly, as the behaviour of the country is moftmock- 
at the court. You told me, you falute not at 
ourt^ but you kifsyour hands; that courtefy 
I be uncleanly, if courtiers were fliepherds. 
, Inftance, briefly; come, inftance. 
. Why, we are ftill handling our ewes ; and 
fells you know are greafy. 

Mb that our poet was well acqndnted with the phyfics qf 

s : and his great penetration enabled him to fee this rene- 

efe&ofit. Warburtoh. 

efpeare is refponfible for the quibblionly^ let thecommen* 

iwer for the rtfintmtnt. Stiivins. 

\i an ilUrsaftti tgg.'\ Of this jeft I do not fully compre- 

t meaning. Joh n son. 

e is a proverb, that a fool is tie hijl r^mfttr ofmn iggt i^ 

it always turning it. This will exp^in how an ej^ may 
U all on ontjiii \ but will not fafficiently fliew how T^uch- 
plies his fimile with propriety. STiivms. 
If, if thou ntnjtr •vaaft at court f thou never faw^fi goffJ mamr 
"thou never f Sec] This reafoning is drawn up m imitation 
* John's to Panurge in Rabelais. Si tn es Cofun, ergo t» 
era hello ; ergo tu ftras hien trasti d'elle ; ergo tu auras dti 
om€onp ; ergo turferas fauvi. The laft infmnce is plea* 
rawn firom the popiih doArine of the interceffion of faints, 

foppofe, our jocular Englifli proverb, concerning thit 
was founded in Friar John's logic. Warburton. 

T X Ch. 



zio A 6 y O U L I if P 1 J. 

Clo. Why, do not your courtiers* baods Avcgi? 
and is not the greafe of (t no.uitQQ a^ Ni^bolffisiW as 
the fweat of a man ? Shallaw, AiaMQW i-rrrA better 
kftaqce, I fay : come. 

Qor. Bcfides, our hands are hard. 

Clo. Your ^ips will fee) them the fofncr. SMIow 
again :— ^a more foiwxd/^r ^oftaQice, conjc* 

Cor. Apd they are often tarr'd oycyr ivr^ththe $iU!> 
gery of our flieep ; and wauld yom ha^t us lu&Mr ' 
Th!^'couf tier'^ hands arje perfumed wUh dy.et, 

Clo. Mod fliallow man Irrr-TboAi w.qroi^m^ i| 
reljped of a good piece pf fle0i-T-dodeed }rrjL«jM^ ^ 
the wife, gnd perpend. Civet U pf <t bafer bifA 
than tar ; (he very uncleanly flux of » ca(, MeQ4 
the inft^nce, (hepherd^ ** 

C«r. You have too courtly a wit ^r me ^ {'U reft, 

C/^. Wilt thou reft damn'd ? God help thee» |b|t 
low man ! God make incifion in thiei: I ' fihqv vt 
raw. 

C^. Sir, I am a true labourer*, | ^^n th»t I tfli 
get that I wear; owe no man hate, envy no man'i 
happiAcfs ; glad of other m^n's good, coatept vitb 

' Make inciiion in tbifJ] T0 malt incifin was z prpvti|bjal or* 
prdBon then in vogue ku to make to uiiderftand*' So tB Ifeai: 
inopt ^d Fletcher's Humouroas Lieu^nant, 



-0 exalknt kingt 



Tbus p$ bg;f9ff then lift an4 light ^^tat^rfu 
'^KgeUt^d kiwy 'vqucb/aft ttt Ungtb ihjfavHfr j 
Jaiifo frceetds lo \nz\f\on, — '-r- 
}• e. to make lum |ipderfland.wliat he woul^ ))e at. 

WA|LBV|70f. 

Till I jtfA 'Px. Warburton's note, I thought i\^ tUq|po hl^ 
\>€tn to that commpn expreffion, of cutting /neb a (mt f^riktjfmr 
>/ffi ; fui4 I fnuft own, after confulting the pafiage in tl)e HpniMii^ 
ens Lieuteo^t, { have no reafgn to alter my fuppolUiiM* Tl*^ 
editor) of Be^iuipont and Fletcher declare theexps^fiQD tobra^^ 
iMflli^iblc ip ij^t as well as aootber plajr where k t« imrodijor^ 

I ir^: 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 281 

ny harm t and the greateft of my pri4e is, to fee my 
mcs graze, and my lambs fuck. 

CIo. That is another fimple fin in you ; to bring 
he ewes and rams toother, and to oner to get your 
iving by the copulauon of cattle : to be a bawd to a 
lell-wether, ^ and to betray a (he-Uimb of a twelve- 
nonth to a crooked*patrd old cuckoldjy ram, out of 
ll reafonable match. If thou be'ft dot damn*d for 
his, the devil himfelf will have no (hepherds % I can^ 
10c fee eUb how thou &ouldft Tcape. 

Car. Here comes young Mr. Gaoiraedt my new 
BifixeG's brother. 

Enter RofaUnd^ with a paper. 

Rof. Frm the et^ to wffiem Indi^ 
N^ jewel u like Rofalind^ 
Her worthy being meunted m tie tVfW, 
Tbrougb all tbev^arld be$rf Rpfalmd^ 
M the piSuresj fairefi limrf4% 
Are but black to Rofalind. 
Let no face be kept in mind^ 
But the face of R$faUnd. 

Clo. ni rhime you fo, eight years together ; din- 
ners, and fuppers, and fleeping hours excepted : it is 
die right butter- woman's rate to market. ^ 

RjBj. Out, fool ! 

Clo. For a tafte. * 

If a bflrt doth lack a bind^ 
Let him feek out Rofalind. 
If the cat wiU after kind, 
Soy be fure^ will Rofalind. 

^ Mmmt^ H m hU'wuhr.'] Wethr and ram luid anciently the 
fti ■lining. JoHNiONt 

* kmii t§ markii.] So fir T. Hanmer. In the Ibnner tdidont 
tmk CO market. Johnson. 

ff^nter^ 



182 A S Y OU L^ K E IT. 

Winter-garments mujt he Uifdy 

So muJiJUnder RofaBnd. 

Tbey that reaf^ mujfjbeaf and kind ; 

Then to cart with Rofalind. 

Sweeteft nut bat If fowreft rind^ 

Such a nut is Rofalind. 

He that Jkpeetejt rofe will findy 

Mnjffnd lovers frick^ and Rofalind. 

This'is the very falfe gallop of verfes ; why do you 
infect yourfclf with than ? 

Rof Peace, you dull fool ; I found them on a tree. 

Clo. Truly, the tree yields bad fruit. 

Rof rU graff it with you, and then I fhall graff it 
with a medler : then it will be the earlieft fruit i'tbe 
country •, for you will be rotten ere you be half ripCi 
and that's the right virtue of the medler. 

Clo. You have faid ; but whether wifely or no, let 
the foreft judge. 

Enter Celia^ iiitb a writing. 

Rof Peace! here comes my lifter readings ftind 
alide. 

CeL fnyfbouldtbisadefertbe. 
For it is unpeopled ? No ; 
Tonguis m bang on every tree^ 

That fhall civil fayings fbow. ' 
Some^ bow brief the life of man 

Runs bis erring pilmmage j 
That tbeflretcbing oj a fpan 

Buckles in his fum of age. 
Some of violated vowSy 
*Twixt the fouls of friend and friend i 

' TtkU fiteU civil fitjfings >ftow.] Crvil is here uftd ii dit 
fame fenfe as when we fay ci'vil wifdom or civil lift^ in oppofi^ -- 
tion to a foiitiry fiate, or to the (late of nature. This deftnc 
ihall not appear mmfttpUd^ for every iree ihall teach the maxima 
Of ipcidei^ts of fociallife. Joh n son . 



AS YOU LIKE IT. a8^| 

But upen tbefdnfi houghs^ 

Or at every fentence eiidj 
tfiaiRo/alindawritey 

Teaching aU^ thatread^ toknaw^ 
Tits piinteffence rf every Jprite 

Heaven would in Httlefiow. 
Ti^erefare heaven nature char^d^ • 

Ihat em hody Jbould be filPd 
With all graces wide enlarged: 

Nature prefentfy difiittd 
Helenas cheeks^ but not ber^heart ; 

Cleopatra* s majefty \ 
Atalanta^s better parti ' 

* Sad Lucretia^s modefty. 
Thus Rofalindof many parts 

By heavenhf Jynod was devi/di 

Ttfirt havtM Mature eharg^d.'] From the plftime of ApieU 
ht tccompliflnnents of Pandora* 

fore, 

B mi th$u 
SBpiffia^ and fi pmrltfi mri eremtid 
Ofi^*ry crtatunU btft. Tempeft. 

ps from this paflag^ Swift had his bint of Biddv Floyd^ 

JOHRSpN* 

lauta^t better part,^ I know not well what conld be the 
irt of Atalanta here afcribed to Roftlind. ^ Of the Ata^ 
>ft celebrated, and who therefore muft be intended here 
le has no epithet of difcrimination, the betttr part feens 
xen her heels, and the worfe part was fo bad that R<^a- 
ikl not thank her lover for the comparifon. There Is a 
fcore Atalanta, a huntrefs and a heroine^ but of her no- 
id is recorded, and therefore I know not which was the 
ut. Shakefpeare was no defpicable mythologift, yet he 
re to have miftaken fome other charaAer for that of Ata* 

OHNSON. 

I b fnKiTf fiber t not light. Jou nsoh« 

Of 



tS4 A S Y O XJ L I K £ I T. 

Ofmawf f^e$9 efis^ and bearSs^ 
To bave the toucbis ^ deare^pri^JL 

Heaven would Sbatjbe tbtfi gifts fimdi^ bavCt 
And I io Uveatfd die birjiovi. 

Rof. O moft grade Jufncer !-— what tedious Iiomily 
of love have you wearied your parifliiouers imhil, 
and never cry'd^ Bave patiena^ goodfcapte! 

Cd. How now! back-friends T^-fhephcrd, gooff 
a little : — go with him, firrah. 

Co. Come, fhe^erd, let us make an Jionounble 
retreat ; tho' not with bag and baggage, yet with foip 
and fcrippage. [Exit Corin andCkwu 

Cel. Didft thou hear thefe verfes? 

Rof. O yes, I heard them all, and more too; for 
feme of them had in them nK>re feet than thevdes 
would bear. 

CeL That's no matter; the feet might bear the 
▼erfes. 

Rof. Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not 
bear themfelves without the verle, and therefore 
flood lamely in the verfe. 

CeL But didft thou hear, without wondring hoiv 
thy name fhould be hanged and carv'd upon thefe 
trees? 

Rof. I was feven of the nine days out of wonder^ 
before you came -, for, look here, what I found oq s^ 
palm-tree : ^ I was never fo be-rhimed fince Pytha^ 

goiai*^ 

> The icMchu.} The features ; Its traits. JoHRtov. 

• I was fwutr fo ht-rhymtd Jimce Fjthagf^as^s //•#, tbst Twos 
mm Irijb rat.] Rofalind is a very learned lady. She allodei ta " 
the Pythagorean doArine, which teaches that foaU tnuifinignun^ 
fiom one animal to another, and relates that in his time ihe wai^ 
an Iiifh raty and by fome metrical charm was rhymed to deadL^ 
The power of killing rats with rhymes Donne mentions in hisSa-^- 
drei, and Temple in his Treatiles. Dr. Gray has prodocMl «fi<^ 
IBilar paflagt iirom Randolph. 

1^ 



\ 

A S Y O IT L r K E I T. 2»f 

*s time, chat I was aa Irifh rat, which I can 
f remember. 

. Trow yoU) whd hath done this ? 
f. b it a man ? 

. And a chain, that you once wore, about hit 
: change you colour ? 
^ I pr'ythce, who ? 

• O Lord, Lord ! it is a hard matter for friends 
!et; but mountains may be remor'd with earth* 
-a, and fo encounter. 
f. Nay, but who is it ? 
\ Is it poflible ? 

f. Nay, I pr/thec now, with moft petitionary 
tience, tell me who it is. 
. O wonderful, wonderful, and moft won de rfu l 
erftil, and yet again wonderful, and after that 
f all whooping^— 

fi ' Good my complexion I doft thou think» 
rh I am caparifon'd like a man, I have a doublet 
ofe in my difpofition ? ' One inch of def ay more 

is 



»Mj poets 



SkM nttith m Jayiitt ft it fid h afimgtr 
Riywu tbim t§ diMikms ihey do ratf in MmmJU 

JoavsoM. 
a Dr. Dodypoll, a comedy » 1600 : 

*< h e rhyme de grand rats from my houfe." 

STIEVEN4. 

wi my 9mpUxwts /] Tiv/ is « modt rfixfrefim^ Mr. TheoL 
ysy ^Meb In cmime r9e9tS(ii$ 10 tsmwnn finft. Like enough : 
too the Oxford editor. Bat the meaning is* Hold good «rjr 
OM, i* e. let me not blafli. Wars u rtoh. 

a inch of dtlaj more is a Somb-fea ofdifcovery,\ This is 
lonfenfe ; we mud read — off diftovery, i. e. from difco- 
*' if jfou delay me one indn of time longer, I fhall think 
I Ibcret as far from difcovery as the Scsub-fta is.*' 

Warburtok* 
IS fentence is rightly noted by the commentator as nonfenA*. 
It fo happily reflored to fenfe. I read thns ; 



286 A S y O U Ll KE I T- 

is a South- fea of difcovcry. I pr'jrtbeft tell me, who 
is ic : quickly, and fpeak apace. I would tbou coyldft 
ftammer, that thou might'ft pour this concealed mao 
o^t of thv mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow- 
mouth*d DOttle ; either too much at once, or none at 
ail. I pr'ythee take the cork out of thy mouth,. that 
I may drink thy tidings. 

Cel. So you may put a man in ^our belly. 

Rof. Is he of God's making? What manner of 
man ? Is his head worth a hat, or his chin worth a 
beard? 

CeL Nay, he hath but a little beard* 

Rb/. Why, God will fend more, if the man will 
be thankful: let me ftay the growth of his beard, if 
thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin. 

CiL It is young Orlando, that tripped up thewreft- 
Jer's heels, and your heart, both in an inftant. 

Rpf. Nay, but the devil take mocking ^ fpeak, fad 
brow, and true maid. 

Cel. rfaith, coz, 'tis he. 

Rof. Orlando? 

CeL Orlando. 

Rof. Alas the day I what fhall I do with my doub* 
let and hofe ! What did he, when thou faw'ft him i 
What faid he ? How lookM he ? Wherein went he ? 
What makes he here ? Did he a(k for me ? Where 

Q## hch •fdtiav tmn is a SBugh^/em. Discover, 1 ff^ythn ; uU 
wwwbc is it f mci^ /— -When the tranfcriber htd once nadt 
4ifc¥0€ry from iifctwr^ /, he eaiilv pat an article after Soath* 
fea. But it may be read with ftill leu change, and with eqoal 
probability. E^^my inch •fitlii^ «#r# is a Sonth-fea difcomr: 
E*vtrj May^ however (hort, is to me tedious and irkfome as tte 
longeft voyage, as a voyage Qfdi/crv$fy on the Stab-fnu How 
much voyages ^ the SouSi-fea, on which the EngUih had then 
firft ventured, engaged the conver&tion of that time, may be eafily 
imagined. Johnson. 

reu 



AS YO U L I KE I T. ^87 

remains hf: ? How parted he with thee ? and when 
Dialt thou fee him again ? Anfwer me in one word. . 

Cel You muft borrow me Garagantua's ' moUtli 
firft i 'tis a word too ereat for any mouth of this age's 
fize. • Tofay9a^, andno, to thefe particulars, is na^re 
than to tofwer m a catechifm. 

Riff. But doth he know that T am in this foreft, 
and in man's apparel ? Looks he as frefhly as he did 
the day he wreftled ? 

Cek It is as eafy to count atonis, as to refolve th<^ 
propofitions of a lover : — but take a tafte of my find- 
ing him, and relifh it with good obfervance. I found 
him under a tree like a dropp'd acorn. * 

Riff. It may well be calFd Jove's trci,.when it 
drops forth fuch fruit. 

Cel. Give me audience, good madam. 

Rtff. Proceed. 

Cel. There lay he, ftretch'd along, like a wounded 
knight. 

Rof. Tho' it be pity to fee fuch a fight, it well be- 
comes the ground. 

Cel. Cry, holla ! to thy tongue, I pr'ythcc ; it cur- 
vets unfeafonably. He was furnifliM like a hunter, 

Rof. Oh, ominous ! he comes to kill my heart. 

CeL I would fing my fong without a burden : thou 
bring'ft me out of tune. 

9 ^-^^GMrMgantua^s mduth.] RoTalind requires nine quellions 
to be anfwered in one won/. Celia tells her that a word of fuch 
BMg&itade is too big for any month but that of Garagantua the 
^aat of Rabelais. Johnson. 

* ^^^I fm.Jbim mndir a trti like a dropfi ocptm,] We (hould 
lead, 

Umfir am an oa k tne. 

For how 
I under an Oilc 
• caUeJ yo*og*t 
ira : for the Mi was facred to Jove. WaTi burton. 
What tree but an oai was ever known to drop an acorn? 

Stebvbns. 

Rof 




i99 A S Y O U L I K E I r. 

Rof. Do you not know I am a woman? whe& 1 
think, I muft fpcak.— Sweet, lay on. 

EfiOr Orlando Mdjdfmu 

Cel You bring itie out.— Soft, comes he nOthdff/ 

Rof. 'Tis he ; (link by, and note him. 

[CeUa and EofaHndrAtu 

Jaq. I thank you for your e6mpany s but, gOOd 
faith, I had as lief have been myfelf done. 

Orla. And fo had I ; but yet, fbf fafluon lake, I 
thank you too for your fociety. 

Jag^. God be with you, let*s meet a^ little ai we' 
can. 

Orla. I do defire we n)ay be better ftrahgert. 

Jaa. I pray vou, mar no mdre trees with wridi^ 
love-longs in their barks. 

Orla. I pray you, mar no more of my Vdrfci wkh 
leading them ill-favouredly. 

Jaq. Rofalind, is your love's name? 

Orla. Yes, juft. 

Jaq. I do not like her name. 

Orla. There was no thought of pleafing you, iriKn 
Ihe was chriften'd. 

Jaq. What ftature is Ihe of? 

Orla. Juft as high as my heart. 

Jaa. You are ^11 of pretty anfwert : HiVe yOtfT 
not oeen acquainted with goldfmiths wivesi and 
connM them out of rings ? 

Orla. Not fo : * but I anlwer ydu right painted 
cloth, from whence you have ftudied your queftions. 

* .— — jir/ / amfwir J9u right painitd cloth.] This alladct ta 
the falhion, in old tapdlrv htngings, of mottos and moral IbaBeiM^ 
from the mouths of the figures worked or printed in them. 'tiv_ 
poet again hints at this cuilom in his poem, called, Tarquia Jtid 
Lucrtce : 

IFbo fimrs m finHna^ §r rnnold mdu^sfmuft 

Shall ty a painted doth bt ktft iu awf. Thsob alb — 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 289 

jfa. You have a nimble wic; I think, it was made 
of Atalanta's heels. Will you fit down with me ; and 
we two will rail againft our miftrcfs, the world, and 
all our mifery. 

Oria. I will chide txo breather in the World but 0)y- 
l^lf, againft whom I know mofl faults. 
Jaq. The worft fault you have, is to be in love. 
Oria. *Tis a fault I would not change for your beffi 
Tirtuc. 1 am weary of you. 

Jaq. By my trotn, I was fgeking for a fool, when 
I found you. 

Orla. He is drown'd in the brook ; look but in^ 
and you (hall fee him. 
Jaq. There I fhall fee mine own figure. 
Oria. Which I take to be either a fool or a cypher. 
Jaq. rU ft ay no longer with you ; farewel, good 
%nior Love ! [£^'/* 

Orla. I. am glad of your departure: adieu, good 
ihoniieur Melancholy. [Cel. and Rof. come forward. 
Rcf. I will fpeak to him like a fawcy lacquey, ana 
\inder that habit play the knave with him. — Do you 
icar, foreftcr? 

bria. Very well : What would you ? 
Rof. 1 pray you, what is't a clock ? 
Orla. You ftiould a(k me, what time o'day ; there's 
no clock in the foreft. 

k(f. Then there is no true lover in tKe foreft ; clfcj 
£ghing every minute, and groaning every hour, would 
dcted the lazy foot of time as well as a clock. 

SirT; Hanmer reads, I an/weryou rights in the ftile of the 
^9ied cUtJb. Something feems wanting, and I know not what 
caa be propofecl better. lanfijueryBu rij^ht pamud clothe may mean, 
I«ve yOQ a true painted cloth anfwer ; as we fay, flic t^Xks rigbi 
Mtiitgfgmui that is, exa^ly foch lan^j^e as is Mitd, at Bil^ 
liD|fgate. Johnson. 

VouIII. V Orl». 



290 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

Orla. And why not the fwift foot of time ? bad 
not that been as proper ? 

Rof By no means, fir: time travels in divers paces, 
with divers pcrfons : I'll tell you whon) time ambles 
withal, whom time trots withal, whom time gallops 
withal, and whom he ftands ftill withal. 

Orla. I pr'ythee, whom doth he trot withal ? 

Rof. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid be- 
tween the concraft of her marriage, and the day it is 
folemnizM ; if the interim be but a fe'ennight, time's 
pace is fo hard, that it feems the length of fcvcn yean 

Orla. Who ambles time withal ? 

Rcf. With a prieft that lacks Latin, and a rich mm' 
that hath not the gout : for the one fleeps eafily, bc- 
♦caufc he cannot ftudy ; and the other lives merrily, 
becaufe he feels no pain : the one lacking the burden 
of lean and wafteful learning ; the other knowing IX^ 
burden of heavy tedious penury. Thefe time ambles 
withal. 

Orla. Whom doth he gallop withal ? 

Rof. With a thief to the gallows : for though he 
go as foftly as foot can fall, he thinks himfelf tooiboo 
there. 

Otla. Whom ftays it ftill withal ? 

Rof With lawyers in the vacation: for tbeyfleep 
between term and term, and then they perceive not 
how time moves. 

Orla. Where dwell you, pretty youth ? 

Rof With this Ihepherdefs, my fifter ; here in Ae 
fkirts of the foreft, like fringe upon a petticoat. 

Orla. Are you a native of this place ? 

Rof As the cony, that you fee dwell where ftc is 
kindled. 

Orla. Your accent is fometbing finer, than yo». 
could purchafe in fo removed a dwelling. 

Rof I have been told fo of many : but, indeed, an 

old religious uncle of m'inc taught me to Ipcak, who 

2 was 



A S y O U L 1 K fi 1 T. 29t 

in his youth an ' in«land man ; one that knew 
rtfliip too well, for there he fell in love. I have 
rd him read many ledures aga'inft it ; I thank God^ 
1 not a woman, to be touchM with fo many giddy 
nces as he hath generally tax*d their whole fex 
lal. 

>rla. Can you remember any of the principal evils, 
: he laid to the charge of women ? 
la/. There were none principal ; they were all likd 
another, as half-pence are : evciy one fault fcem- 
monftrous, 'till his fellow fault came to match it. 
Ma. I pr*ythee, recount fome of them. 
lof. Hoi I will not caft away my phyfick, but oii 
fe that arc fick. There is a man haunts the forcft, 
t abufcs our young plants with cai ving Rof alind on 
if barks -, hangs odes upon hawthorns, and elegies 
brambles; all, forfooth, deifying the name of 
ialind. If I could meet that fancy- monger, I 
lid give him fome good counfel, for he fccms to 
: the quotidian of love upon him. 

rla. I am he, that is fo love-(hak*d j I pray you, 

TIC your remedy. 

t/I There is none of my uncle's marks upon you J 

ught me how to know a man in love ; m which 

of rulhes, I am fure, you are not prifoner. 

^a. What were his marks ? 
I A lean cheek, which you have not i a blue 
d funken, which you have not : an unqueftion- 
irk^ * which you have not : a beard negleftcd, 

M'iawJ man ;] Is ufei in this play for one c'ntiJifeii, in op- 

t> the ruftick of the prieft. bo Orlando before— 7</ am t 

'^tdy afhd kne*w fnm^ nurture* Johnson. 

an unqueftionahle /piritA That is, a fpirit not inquifili'ue^ 

different to common objefls, «nd negligent of common 

;8. Here Shakefpcare has ufed a paifivc for an adiive 

»cech : fo in a former fcene. Tin Dukt is too difputabld 

t is, too d/putatitus, Johnson. 

ot meaQi un willing to hi conmnftd ic itht Ch a m i e a • 

U 2 which 



292 A S Y O U L I K E I T. . 

which you have not:— but I pardon you for that,for 
fimply your having in beard is a younger brother's re- 
venue : — Then your hofe fliould be ungarter'd, your 
bonnet unhanded, your Qceve unbuttoned, your flioc 
untied, and every thing about you demonftrating a 
carelefs defolation. But you are nofuch man*, you 
are rather point-de-vice in your accoutrements ; as 
loving yourfclf, than fceming the lover of any other. 

Ona. Fair youth, I would I could make thee be- 
lieve I love. 

Rof Me believe it ? you may as foon make her, 
that you love, believe it ; which, I warrant ihc is 
aptcr to do, than to confefs fhc does ; that is one of 
tlie points, in the which women ftill give the lye to 
their confciences. But, in good footn, are you he 
that hangs the verfes on the trees, Mvhercin Rolalind 
is fo admired ? 

Orla. I fwear tothee, youth, by the white hand of 
Rofalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he. 

Rof. But are you lb much in love, as your rhimes 
fpeak ? 

Orla. Neither rhime nor reafon can exprefs how 
much. 

Rof. Love is merely a madnefs ; and, I tell you, 
deferves as well a dark houfe and a whip, as madmen 
do : and the reafon why they are not fo punilhM and 
cured, is, that the lunacy is fo ordinary, that the 
whippcrs are in love too : Yet I profefs curing it by 
counfel. 

Orla. Did you ever cure any fo ? 

Rof. Yes, one \ and in this manner. He was to 
imagine me his love, his miftrefs ; and I fet himcvcry 
day to woo me. At which time would 1, being but 
a moonifh youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeabk, 
longing, and liking ; proud, fantaftical, apifh, Ihal- 
low, inconftanr, full of tears, full of fmiles; for 
every paffion fomething, and for no paffion truly any 

tbii^ 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 293 

as boys and women arc for the moft part cattle 
I colour : would now like him, now loath him : 
intertain him, then forfwear him; now weep for 
then fpit at him ; that I drave my fuitor from 
ad humour of love, to a living humour of mad- 
i which was to forfwear the full dream of the 
, and to live in a nook merely monaftick : and 
cur'd him ; and this way will I take upon me 
fh your liver as clear as a found Iheep's heart, 
licrc ftiall not be one fpot of love in*t. 
I. I would not be cur*d, youth. 
; I would cure you if you would but call me 
nd, and come every day to my cote, and woo 

r. -Now, by the faith of my love, I will. Tell 

lere it is. 

Go with me to it, and I will fliew it you : and, 
way, you fhall tell me where in the foreft you 

Will you go ? 

r. With all my heart, good youth. 
Nay, nay, you muft call me Rofalind :-^Come, 

will you go ? {Exeunt. 

SCENE III. 
ter Clown and Audrey ^ Jaques watching them. 
Come apace, good Audrey ; I will fetch up 
pats, Audrey : And how, Audrey ? am I the 
ct ? doth my fimple feature content you ? 

— /r a living humour of niadntfi ;] If thx3 be the true read- 
3uft by li*ving underhand lafting^ or per mamnt, bat I can- 
ear to think that Tome antithefis was intended which is 
; perhaps the pafTage flood thus, / i/rove my fuitor from 
humour of lo*vit to a liming humour cf mudnefs. Or rather 
MM a mad humour of lovt to a loving humour ofmadn-f^ 
from a madnefs that was Wf> to a lovo that was madnefs. 
ems fomcwhat harih and llraincd, but fuch modes of 
re not unufual in ourppoet : and this hdrlhnefs was pro- 
e caufe of the corruption. Johnson. 

U 3 yiud 



;j94 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

Aud. Your features! L.ord warrant us! what fea- 
tures ? 

Clo. I am here with thee and thy goats, as the rooft 
capricious poet honeft Ovid was among the Goths. 

Jaq, \jiftde] O knowledge ill-inhabited ! worfcthan 
Jove in a thatch'd houfe ! 

Clo. When a man's verfcs cannot be underftood,nor 
9 man's good wit feconded with the forward child, 
pnderftandingy it'ftrikes a man more dead than a great 
reckoning in a little room *: Truly, I would theGocb 
had made thee poetical, 

Jud, I do not know what poetical is : Is it honeft 
in deed, and word ? Is it a true thing ? 

Clo. No, truly ; for the trueft poetry is the moft 
feigning ; and lovers are given to poetry \ ' yid what 
thty fwear in poetry, ^ may be faid, ^s lovers, they 
do feign. 

* it ftriht a man mori dead than a great redfwing in a litih 

f9'm :] Nothing was ever wrote in higher humour thao tUl fi- 
mile. A great reckoning, in a little room, implies that tbeea- 
tertainment was mean, and the bill extravagant. The poetktrs 
alluded to the French proverbial ^\iiz{tif the quarter of bimrUht* 
helais : who faid, there was only one quarter of an hoor in ba* 
man life paiTed ill, and that was between the calling for diereck- 
pning and paying it. Yet the delicacy of our Oxford editor would 
correct this into, It ftriket a man more dead than a great reeking fi 
a lit: U room. This is amending with a vengeance. Whenoes 
are joking together in a merry humour, all are difpofed to hogh. 
pnd of the company fays a good thing ; the jeil is Ii0ttakca| 
all are filent, and he who faid it, quite confounded. This il 
compared to a tavern jollity interrupted by the coming in oft 
grtat reckoning. Had not Shakcfpcare reafon now in this cafe to 
apply his fimile to his own cafe, againfl his criticaj editor? V^Tio, 
'ns plain, taking the phrafe to Jlrike dtad in a literal feofc con- 
cluded, from his knowledge in philofophy, that it could not be ib 
efff finally done by a reckoning as by a reekitg, Warbvutos. 

^ — andiAjbat they five ar in po. try ^ &c.] This fenteBCefeeBt 
perplexed and inconfequent. perhaps it were bcttv read tho5,W4 
jlfey/<ivcar 41J /ovetj thy moy be ^aidtP feign as poitu JOHKSOU* 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 295 

A^. Do you wiih then, that the Gods had mad^ 
tnc poetical ? 

CI9* I do, truly : for thou fwcar'ft to me, thou art 
lioneft : ik>w if thou wert a poet, I might have fonie 
hope thou did ft feign. 

Aud. Would you not have me honeft ? 

Clo. No, truly, unlefs thou wert hard favoured : for 
honefty coupled to bcauiy, is, to have honey a faucc 
to fugar. 

7^?* \fftd€\ A material fool ! ' 

Aud. Well, 1 am not fair ; and therefore I pray the 
Gods make me honeft ! 

Clo. Truly, and to caft away honefty upon a foul 
flut, were to put good meat into an unclean difli. 

And. 1 am not a flut, though 1 thank the Gods I 
am foul. 9 

Clo. Well, praifed be the Gods for thy fouh^efs! 
fluttiihnefs may come hereafter. But be it as it may 
be, 1 will marry thee : and to that end, I have been 
with Sir Oliver Mar-text, the vicar of the next vil- 
lage ; who hath promised to meet me in this place of 
the foreft, and to couple us. 

Jaq. [ajide] I would fain fee this meeting. 

Am. Well, the Gods give us joy ! 

C/o. Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful 
heart, fliagger Jn this attempt; for here we have no 
temple but the wood, no aflcmbly but horn-beaft:s. 
But what tho r ' Courage ! As horns are odious, they 
afc heccflary. It is faid. Many a man kncws no end 
of his goods : right : many a man has good horns, 
and knows no end of them. Well, that is the dowry 
of his wife; *tis none of his own getting. Horns? 
Even fo : — poor men alone ? — No, no j the nobleft 

* J material fool I'] A fool with matter in him ; a fool iloclced 
with actions. Johnson. 
^ I am feuL'] By foul is meant coy or frowning* Hanmbr. 
' '^Wbattb'j?] What then. Johhsow. 

U 4 deer 



296 A S Y O U L I K E 1 t. 

^eer hath them as huge as the rafcal. Is the finglc 
man therefore bleffed ? No. As a waU'd town is 
more worthier than a village, fo is the forehead of a 
married man more honourable than the bare broW of 
a bachelor : and by how much defence is better than 
no (Hill, fo much is a horn more precious than to 

want 

Enter Sir Oliver Mar-text. 

Here comes fir Oliver— Sir Oliver Mar-text, * yoq ' 
^re well m^t. Will you difpatch us here under this 
tree, or Ihall we go with you to your chapel ? 

Sir Oli. Is there none here to giye the woman f 

C/o. I v,\\\ not take her on gift oif jmy man. 

Sir Oli. Truly, fhe muft be given, or the marri^ 
is not lawful. 

Jag. [difcavering him/elf] Proceed, proceed! Ill 
give her. 

da. Good even, good matter what ye call: how 
do you, fir ? You are. v^ry well met : God*ild you 
for your laft company ! I am very glad to fee you :— ? 
even a toy in hand here^ fir: — Nay, pray, be coi 
yercd. 

Jaq. Will yqu b^ married. Motley ? 

Clo. As the ox hath his bow, ' fir, the horfehis 
curb, and the faulcon his bells, fo man hath his dcr 
fire ; and as pigeons bill, fo wedlock would be nibr 
linpr. 

Jaq. And ^yill you, being a man of your breeding, 
be married under a bu(h, like a beggar ? Get you toj 
church, and have a good prieft that can tell you what 
fnarriage is : thu fellow will but join you tojgetheras 

* Sir Oliver,] He that has taken his 6r(l degree at the aniver- 
fjty, is in the academical ilyle called Dtminu'^ and in common 1^- 
guage w!»s heretofore termed S.r. This was not always a word o^ 
contempt ; the graduates affumed it in their own writings ; foTie— 
yii'a the hiftorian writes himfclf Syr John dc Treviia. Johnson. 

^ ^'i bow,J i, c. huyokt. 6t5EV5N8, 

thc]^ 



A S Y OTJ L I K E I T. cgj 

they join wainfcot ; then one of you will prove a 
ihrunk pannel, and, like green timber, warp, warp, 

Clo. lam not in the mind but I were better to be 
married of him than of another : for he is not like to 
marry me well; and not being well married, it will 
be a good excufc for me hereafter to leave my wife. 
Jaq, Go thou with me, and let me counfel thee, 
Clo. Come, fweet Audrey, we muft be married, or 
fic muft live in bawdry. Farewel, good fir Oliven 

Not, ♦ O fweet Oliver, 

O brave Oliver, 
Leave me not behind thee i 

But wend away. 

Begone, I fay, 
I will not to wedding with thee. 

Sir 

^ N»t O fijoeit Oliwr, O bravh kcJ] Some words of an old 
luJlad. Wahburton. 

Of this fpeech, as it now appears, 1 can make nothing, and 
Ihynk nothing can be made. In the fame breath he calls his 
aiftrefs to be married, and fends away the man that (hoald marry 
them. Dr. Warburton has very happily obferved, that O ftuea 
O/itmr is a quotation from an old fong ; I believe there are two 
qooutions put in oppofition to each other. For WW I read 
%»/, the old word for go. Perhaps the whole paffage may be 
fcguiated thns, 

Ck>« / am not in tbt «iW, but it win bitter for me to b% marrigi 
tfhim tban of anotber^ for be is uot hke to marry me nu'll^ and not be^ 
log vutU marriiiif it iviUbe a good excuftfor me bereafter to Uamt m^ 
fvtfo ComOf fwiit Judrty^ tve muft be married^ or nvemuft Itt'g 

hbmwdfy. 

Jaq. Go tbou ucitb me^ and let me eoyn/el tbee, [they whifper. 

Clo. Fartnvel, good fir OJiwr^ not O fweet Oliver, O brave 

Oliver, leave me not behind thee, Int 

Wend a^wajt 
Begone, Ifay^ 
I tvill not to wedding nnitb tbei to-doy. 

Of this conjeAure the reader may take as much as (hall appear 
pecefiary to the fenfe, or conducive to the humour. I have re- 
feited all bat the additional words. The fong (eems to be com- 
plete witljoat them. Johnson* 

The 



298 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

Sir on. 'Tis no matter ; ne'er a fantaftical knave 
of them all fhall flout me out of my calling, [fyorx/. 

SCENE IV. 

A cottage in the for eft. 

Enter Rofalind and Celia. 

Rof. Never talk to me — I will weep. 

CeL Do, I pr'ythee ; but yet have the grace to 
confider, that tears do not become a man. 

Rof But have I notcaufc to weep? 

CeL As good caufc as one would defirc ; therefore 
weep. 

Rof. His very hair is of the diflcmbling colour. 

CeL Something browner than Judas's : marry his 
kifles are Judas's own children. 

Rof. rfaith, his hair is of a good colour. ^ 

CeL An excellent colour : your chefnut was Cfcr 
the only colour. 

Rof And his kifllng is as full of fandity, as tbe 
touch of holy beard.* 

The Clown difmifTes fir Oliver only becaafe Jaqnet kadpnt him 
out of conceit with hiro^ by alarming his pride and raifingtobch 
touching the validity of a marriage (blemnised by onewboiP* 
pears only in the charadler of an itinerant preacher ; thoo|hK 
intends to have recourfc to Tome other of more dignity in tiM 
fame profeffion. Dr. Johnfon's fuppo(ition» that the latter pirt of 
the Clown's fpeech is only a repetition from fome other, orpcr^ 
haps a different part of the fame ballad, is 1 believe right. 

' Vfaith^ his hair is •fa goo^ Cil'Str.] There IS IDBCh rf««- 

ture in thi^ petty perverfenefs of Rofalind ; fhe finds faults ia her 
lover, in hope to be contradidled, and when Celia in fporrifcoi- 
licc too readily feconds her accufations, fhe contradids herfe" 
rather than fufler her favourite to want a vindication. Johh^^^"* 
* — af the touch of holy bread. ] We fhould read hard^ th*t is, 
as the kifs of an holy faint or hermit, called the ki/s efchsnp' 
This makes the comparifon jull and decent ; the other imjAw 
and abfurd. War burton. 

Cdn 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 299 

He bath bought t pair of caft lips of Dia^ 
\un of winter's fiftcrhood ' kiffcs not more rcli- 
' ; the very ice of chaftity is in them. 

But why did he fwear he would come this 
ig, and comes not ? 

Nay certainly, there is no truth in him. 

Do you think fo ? 

Yes. I think he is not a pick-purfc nor a 
iealer ; but for his verity in love, 1 do think 
concave as a cover*d goblet, ■ or a worm-eaten 

; Not true in love ? 

Yes, when he is in ; but, I think, he is not in. 
; You have heard him fwear downright, he was, 

fTas^ is not is : befides, the oath of a lover is 

—a nun of winttr^s fifttrhwd'i This is £nely exprefled* 
. Theobald fays, tht luords givi him no ideas. And *iii 
that words will never give men what nature has denied 
However, to mend the matter, he fubftitutes Wimifrt^ 
i. And, after fo happy a thought, it was to no purpofe to 
I there was no religious order of that denomination. The 
•uth is, Shakefpeare meant ^» unfrwtful fflirho^d^ which 
«)ted itfclf to chaftity. For as thofc who were of the filter- 
■ the fpring were the votaries of Venus ; thofe of fummer, 
aries of Ceres ; thofe of autumn, of Pomona: fo thefc of 
rhoad of ivinttr were the votaries of Diana : called, o/nxin^ 
caufe that quarter is not, like the other three, produfUve 
orincrcafc. On this account it is, that when the pnet 
of what is moft /wr, he inltances in 'winter^ in thefe fine 
r Othello, 

But riches tndlefs is as poor as winter 
To h,m that ever J ears he Jhall be poor, 
her property of winter that made him term them of its iiftcr- 
I its coldoefs. So in Midfummer Night's Dream, 
To be a barren fifter all your Ife^ 
Chanting faint hymns to. the cold fruitlefs moen, 

Warburtoit. 

as concave at a cov^r^d goblet,] Why a eovft'df Becauie 

et is never kept covn^d but when emftj^ Shakefpeare never 
\ out his expreflions at randoin, Warbvrtok. 

no 



300 AS YOU LIKE I'P! 

no ftrongcr than the word of a tapftcr ; they arc both 
the confirmers of falfe reckonings. He attends here 
in the forcft on the Duke your mhcr. 

Rof. I met the Duke yefterday, and had much 
queftion with him : He afked me, of what parentage 
1 was ; I told him, of as good as he : fo he laugh'd, 
and let me go. But what talk we of fathers, when 
there is fuch a man as Orlando. 

Cel. O, that's a brave man ! he writes brave verfes, 
fpeaks brave words, fwears brave oaths, and breaks 
them bravely, quite travcrs, athwart ' the heart of 
his lover •, as a puny tilter, that fpurs his horfe but 
one fide, breaks his (lafFlike a noble goofe : but all's 
brave, that youth mounts, and folly guides : Who 
comes here? 

• quiti tr avers f athwart, 8cc,] An unexperienced lover 

IS here compared to a puny tilter, to whom it was a di/grace to 
haye his lance broken acrofs, as it was a mark either of want of 
courage oraddrefs. This happened when the horfe flew on one 
fide, in the career : and hence, I fuppofe, arofe the jocular pro* 
verblal phrafe of /purring thi horfe only m ons Jldt, Now as break* 
ing the lance again ft his adverfary^s bread, m a direA line, wai 
honourable, fo the breaking it acrcf againft his bread was, fordie 
reafon above, dilhonourabfe: hence it is, thai Sidney, in hisAr* 
cadia, fpeaking of the mock-combat of Clinias and Dametasiayt, 
"^htnnind tookjuch hold of hit ftaffihat it croft quite over his breaft, 
&e. And to break acroft was the ufual phrafe, as appears 

from fome wretched verfes of the fame author, fpeaking of an on* 
fkilful tilter, 

M:fhuiht fome Jlavs he mift : if fn^ net much amfs : 

f^r twhen be m fi dtd bit* ht ei*tr yet didmifi. 

One f aid he brake acrofs, fullnutll itfo might ht, &C. 

This is the alluiion. So that Orlando, a young gallant, a£Feding 
the fafhion (lor bra've is here ufed, as in other places, for fe- 
fhionable) is reprcfentcd cither ft/^/^w/ in courtfhip, or tim^rtas. 
The lover*s meeting or appointment correfponds to the dlter'sca- 
reer ; and as the one breaks ftaves, the other breaks oaths. The 
bafinefs is only meeting fairly, and doing both with addrefs: apd 
'tis for the want of this, that Orlando is blamed. 

Warburtov. 

Enier 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 



301 



Enter Corin. 

Zor. Miftrcfs, and matter, you have oft enquired 
cer the fliepherd that complained of love j 
horn you faw fitting by me on the turf, 
lifing the proud difdainful Ihepherdefs 
at was his mittrefs. 
ZeU Well, and what of him? 
Zor. If you will fee a pageant truly play'd, 
ween the pale complexion of true love, 
id the red glow of fcorn and proud difdain ; 
hence a little, and I fhall condud you, 
^ou will mark it. 
Kof. Come, let us remove ; 
c fight of lovers feedeth thofe in love : 
ng us but to this fight, and you fhall fay 
prove a bufy adtor in their play. {Exeunt. 

SCENE V. 

Changes to another part of theforeft. 
Enter Silvius and Phebe. 

\iL Sweet Phebe, do not fcorn me; — do not, 

Phebe: — 
', that you love me not ; but fay not fo 
Dittcrnefs: The common executioner, 
lofe heart the accuftomM fight of death makes 

hard. 
Is not the ax upon the humbled neck, 
: firft begs pardon : Will you fterner be ■ 
an he that dies and lives by bloody drops ? 

Enter 



"nviil you flerner h't 



Than be that dies and lives by blndy drops T\ 
% is fpoksn of the executioner. He li'ues indeed by bloody 
ps, if you will : but how does he die by bloody drops ? The 
tmuft certainly have wrote— ri^a/ deals and lives. Sec. i. c. that 

get! 



302 A S Y O U L I K E 1 T* 

Enter Rofalind^ Celia^ and Ccrin. 

Pie. I would not be thy executioner; 
I fly thee, for I would not injure thee. 



ThM 



gets his bread by, and makes a trade of catting oiF heads: bit 
the Oxford editor makes it plainer. He reads. 

Than hi that li*ues andtbrvues hy bM^ drtfs^ 

WAaBVtTow* 

Either Dr. Warburton's emendation, except that the word ttdn 

wants its proper conftrudtion, or that of fir T. Hanmer mayferve 

the purpofe ; but I believe they have iixt^ corruption tipon Ar 

wrong word, and ihould rather read, 

Than he that dies his lips by bloddy dr$ps f 

Will you foeak with more fternnefs than the execntioner, wbofe 
//// are ufed to bey^ii^i/r^ with blood / The mention of dfpm' 
plies fome part that muft be fprinkled rather than dipped. 

JoHHSoa* 
I ^m afraid our bard is at his quibbles again. To dye means it 
well to dip a thing in a colour foreign to its o*wn, as to expire. In tkii 
fenfe, contemptible as it is, the executioner may be faid to ditn 
well as liw by hioody dnps. Shakefpeare is fond of oppofing tkfi 
words to each other. 

In K. John is a play on words not unlike this. 
allwitb purpled bands 
Dy'd in the dying Jlaugbter^ of their foes. 
Camden has preferved an epitaph on a dyer, whicl hu til 
fame play on words ; 

** He that dyedh oft in fport, 
«* Dyed at lift, no colour for't*** 

So Heywood, in his epigrams, 1562. 

•* Is thy hufband a dyer, woman ? alack, 
" Had he no colour to dye thee on but black f 
•• Difih he oft ? yea, too oft when cuftomers call. 
" But I would have him one day die once for alL 
«* Were he gone, dyer never more would I wed, 
•* Dyers be ever ^yiftg^ but never dead." 
So Puttenham, in his Art of Poetry, 1^89: 
«« We once (ported upon a country fellow, who came to rUn f/ 
«« the befl game, and was by his occupation a dyer^ and had toT 
" big fwelling legs. 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 303 

teirft me, there is murder in mine eye: 
)rctty, fure, and very probable, 
eyes, that are the frairit and fofteft things, 
Ihut their coward gates on atomies, 
d be caird tyrants, butchers, murderers !— 
do I frown on thee with all my heart ; 
f mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee: 
counterfeit to fwoon ; why, now fall down ; 
: thou can'ft not, oh, for fliame, for fhame, 
lot, to fay mine eyes arc murderers, 
(hew the wound mine eyes have made in thee : 
;h thee but with a pin, and there remains 
fear of it ; lean but upon a ruih, 
icatrice and capable imprcffure * 
)alm fome moments keeps : but now mine eyes, 
\i I have darted at thee, hurt thee not ; 
I am fure, there is no force in eyes 
can do hurt. 
OdearPhebe, 
• (as that ever may be near) 
leet in fome frcfh cheek the power of fancy, * 
fliall you know the wounds invifible 
love's keen arrows make. 
'. But 'till that time, 

not thou near me : and when that time comes, 
: me with thy mocks, pity me not •, 
.ill that time, I (hall not pity thee. 

** He is but crar/ to run a courfe^ 

*' Whofe (hanlcs arc bigger than his thigh ; 

«* Yet is his luck a little worfe 

** That often dyn before he die. 

re ye fee the words courft and dje ufed In divers fcnfes, one 
gthe r/^0«ff/ to the other." Ste evens. 

t cicatrice and capahk imprfjffure] Cicatrice is here not very 
J ufcd ; it is the fear of a wound. Cafahh imprtjfun at- 
%rk. Johnson. 

-'power of fancy y\ Fa»cy is here ufed for kme^ as before 
ummer Night's Dream. Johnson. 

Rof. 



304 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

Rof. And why, I pf ay you ? — Who might be yoin 
mother, ♦ 
That you infult, exult, and all at once, * 
Over the wretched ? What though you have beautf • 
(As, by my faith, I fee no more in you 
Than without candle may go dark to bed,) * 
Muft you be therefore proud and pitilefs ? 
Why, what means this ? Why do you look on mc ? 
I fee no more in you than in the ordinary 
Of nature's fale-work:^ Od's, my little life! 
I think, (he means to tangle mine eyes too : 
No, faith, proud miftrefs, hope not after it ; 
'Tis not your inky brows, your black (ilk hair, 
Your bugle eye-balls, nor your check of cream» 

^ '^IVht might heyomr mother A It is common for the jtoets ^ 
ciprefs cruelty by faying, of thoic who commit it, that theynwi 
born of rocks, or fuckled by tigrelTcs. Johkson. 

' That you infult, exult ^ and all at once] If the fpetkeriB- 
tended to accufe the perfon fpoken to only for in/ulti/^ and exdt- 

ing ; then, inftead of ali at once, it ought to have bcai» 

Sotb at once. But by examining the crime of the pcrfoo accufedf 
we fhall difcover that the line is to be read thus, 

That you infult, exult, and Kk\L, at once. 
For thefe three things Phebe was guilty of. But the Oxfordedw 
tor improves it, and, for rail at once, reads dcmimcr. Waii. 

I fee no need of emendation. The fpeaker may mean tlias: 
H^bo might he your motbtr, that yon infult, exult, and thai tto oBii 
a Snath, Such I take to be the meaning of all at once. 

STtfiTEtf. 

* ivhat though vu have no beauty^ Though all the 

printed copies agree in this reading, it is very accurately obfenrrd 
to me by an ingenious unknown correfpondent, who figns htofelf 
L. H. (and to whom I can only here make my acknowledgemeats) 
that the ntgati<ve ought to be left out. Theobald. 

' Ofnaturt^ faleAWork:] i. e. thofe works that nature nuto 
up carelefsly and without exadlnefs. The alluiion is to the prac- 
tice of mcch a nicks, whofe 'Uiork befpoke is more elaborate, diaa 
that which is made up for chance cuilomers, or to fell in quand- 
ties to retailers, which is called y2f/f-<i««ri. Warbu&toni 

That 



A S Y O U L I K £ I T. 305 

iat can entamc my fpirits to your worfliip. • 

M foolifh (hcphci-d, wherefore do you follow her 

ke foggy fouch, puffing with wind and rain? 

3U are a thoufand cimes a properer man, 

ban (he a woman. 'Tis fuch fools as you, 

Iwt make the world full of ill-favour'd children ; 

'is not her glafs, but you, that flatters her : 

nd out of you fhc fees herfclf more proper, 

ban any of her lineaments can (how her.—- ' 

It, miftrefs, know yourfelf -, down on your knees, 

nd thank heaven, fallings for a good man's love : 

>r I muft tell you friendly in your ear, 

:11 when you can ; you are not for all markets. 

ry the mah mercy -, love him; ; take his offer % 

>ul is moft foul, being foul to be a fcoffer : ^ 

>, take her to thee, fhepherd; — fare you well, 

Pbe. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together ^ 

lad rather hear you chide, than this man woo. 

R§f. [afide} He's fallen in love with her foulnefs,* 

id IheMl fall in love with my anger. , If it be fo, as 

ft as {he anfwers thee, with frowning looks, TU 

uce her with bitter words. — Why look you fo upon 

c? 

' That can bntamb my fpirits u your worfiifi,] I (hould rt« 
!r think that Shtkefpeare wrote bntraikb, draw, allure. 

WARBVRTOlfy 

Tlie fiomiiion reading feems unexceptionable. Johmsok. 
» FomJis mojf fornix ieimg foul to he afcofftr ;] The Ooly ftttfil 
thb ia» An iU-fanourtd per/on is moft tU-favostreJ^ «i4mr if b$ 
iiUfnfomreii he is a fcoffer. Which is'a deal too aMurd tocomf 
m Shakefpeare ; who, without queftion, Wote, 

Foul is moflfiuU htiug tovmd toho u fcofftf z 
^ where an Ul -favoured perfon ridicules the defe^ of othtn, it 
ket his own appear exclave. WAaBU&TOM. 
The (enfe of the received leading is not fairly reprefented \ it it, 
' nhj*'^ ^^ ^gh* "^htut thoug;h ugly 9 th^ art feoffors. 

JOHNiOjr, 

* north hor fouluefs^'] So fiA.T. Hanmer* the other ecU» 

«is,jr«irrfoulne&. JOHfffOII. 

Vol. III. X Phi. 



3o6 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

Pbe! For no ill will I bear you. 

Rof. I pray you, do not fall in love with me, 
For I am falfer than vows made in wine: 
Befides, I like you not. If you will know my houfc, 
*Tis at the tuft of olives, here hard by. 
Will you go, fifter ? — Shepherd, ply her hard :— 
Come, fifter : — (hepherdefs, look on him better. 
And be not proud. Though all the world couUiice,' 
None could be fo abus'd in fight, as he. 
Come, to our flock. [Exeunt Rof. Cel. and Cm. 

Pbe. Dead fliepherd, now I find thy faw of might} 
Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at firft fight ? 

Sil. Sweet Phebe ! 

Pbe. Hah ! what fay'ft thou, Silvius ? 

Sil. Sweet Phtbe, pity me. 

Pbe. Why, lam forry for thee, gentle Silvias. 

Sil. Where-evcr forrow is, relief would be: 
If you do forrow at my grief in k)ve. 
By giving love, your forrow and my grief 
Were both extermin^d. 

Pbe. Thou haft my love ; is not that neighbourijr j 

Sil. I would have you. 

Pbe. Why, that were covetoufnefs^ 
Silvius, the time was, that I hated thee. 
And yet it is not, that I bear thee love : 
But fincc that thou canft talk of love fo well. 
Thy company, which erft was irkfome to me^ 
'! will endure ; and Pll employ thee too : 
But do not look for further recompence^ 
Than thine own gladnefs that thou art employ'^ 

5/7. So holy, and fo pcrfeft is my love. 
And- 1 in fuch a poverty of grace. 
That I fhall think it a moft plenteous crop 

• Tbeugb all fbi w§rU €§uU fii^ 

None could be Jo abused in fiiht^ as he ] 
Though all mankind could look on you. Done could btbdh 
ccivtd as to think yoa beautiful but be. jOHirsoir. 



A S YOlJ |.i K£ IT. 3P7 

To glean the broken e^rs after the man 

That the cnain harveft reaps : ^oofe now and thea 

Aicatter'd fmile, and that Til live upon. 

Pbt. Know'ft thou the youth that fpokc to me ere* 
while ? 

SiL Not very well, but I hav6 met him oft ; 
And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds. 
That the old Carlot once was matter of. 

Fbe. Think not^ I love him, tho' I a(k for him \ 
•Tis but a pcevifli boy ; — yet he talks well:— 
But what care I for words ? yet words do well. 
When he that fpeaks them, pleafes thofe that hcaf# 
It is a pretty youth ;-T-not very pretty l — 
Butyfvre, he's proud ; and yet his pride becomes him : 
He'll make a proper man : the beft thing in him 
Is his cajjDplexion \ and fafter than his tongue 
Did m^e offence, his eye did heal it up. 
He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall } 
His Jeg is but fo fo ; and yet 'tis well ; 
There was a pretty rednefs in his lip, 
A little riper, and more lufly red 
Than that mix'd in his cheek ; 'twas juft the diff^erencc 
Betwijct the conftant red and mingled damaik. 
There be fpme women, Silvius, had they mark'd him 
In parcels as I did, would have gone near 
Tpfall in love with him : but, for my part. 
Hove him not, nor hate him not s and yet 
[ huve more caufe to hate him than to love him : 
Per what had he to do to chide at me ? 
HejQiid^ mine eyes were black, and my hair black; 
&.od, now I am remembred, fcorn'd at me : 
[ marvel, why I anfwer'd not again: 
But that's all one ; omittance is no quittance : 
I'll wri^e to him a very uunting letter. 
And thou (halt bear it •, Wilt thou, Silvius ? 

SiL ^hebe^ with all my heart. 

fU. I'll ^ritc iiftraight; 

X a The 



3o8 A S Y O U L 1 K E I T. 

The matter's in my head, and in my heart : 

I will be bitter with him, and pafllng Ihort : 

Go with me, Silvius. [Eximl* 



A C T IV. S C E N E I. 

THE FOREST. 

Enter Rofalind^ Celia^ and Japes. 

J A Q^U E S. 

1Pr*ythce, pretty youth, let me be better acquunted 
with rhcc. 

Rof. They fay, you are a melancholy fellow. 

Jaq. I am fo -^ I do love it better than laughing. 

Rof. Thofe, that are in extremity of cither, areuo- 
minable fellows ; and betray themfelves to every mo- 
dern cenfurc, worfe than drunkards. 

7^lJ. Why, 'tis good to be fad, and fay nothing. 

Rof. Why then, 'tis good to be a poft. 

Jaq. I have neither the fcholar's melancholy, which 
is emulation ; nor the mufician's, which is fanniftial; 
nor the courtier's, which is proud •, nor the foldier's, 
which is ambitious ; nor the lawyer's, which is po- 
litick ; nor the lady's, which is nice ; nor the lover's, 
which is all thefe : but it is a melancholy of mine 
own, compounded of many fimples, extra!6ted from 
many objefts, and, indeed, the fundry contemplatioA 
of my travels, on which my often rumination wraps 
me in a mod humourous fadnefs. 

Rof A traveller! By my faith, you have great fct- 
fon to be fad : I fear, you have fold your own lands, 
to fee other mens ; then, to have fcen much, and W 
have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands. 

Jaq. Yes, I have gain'd mc experience. 

EnW 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. ^^ 

Enter Orlando. 

And your experience makes you fad : I had 
lave a fool to make me merry, than experience 
; me fad ; and to travel for it too. 
Good day, and happinefs, dear Rofalind V 

Nay then God bVy you, an you talk in 

erfe. [Exit. 

Farewel, monfieur traveller : look, you lifp, 
ir ftraneefuits; difable all the benefits of your 
jntry ; oe out of love with your nativity, and 
chide God for making you that countenance 
; or I will fcarce think, you have fwam in a 
. ' — Why, how now, Orlando ! where have 
ti all this while ? You a lover ?— An you fervc 
. another trick, never come in my fight more. 
My fair Rofalind, I come within an hour of 
nife. 

ireak an hour's promife in love ! He that will 
minute into a thoufand parts, and break but 
>f the thoufandth part or a minute in the af- 
love, it may be faid of him, that Cupid hath 
n o' the ihoulder, but TU warrant him heart- 
Pardon me, dear Rofalind. 
Nay, an you be To tardy, come no more ia 
t. I had as lief be woo'd of a fnaiK 
Of a fnail ? 

mnin a gondola.] That if, hnn at Venice, the feat 'at 
>f aniicentioufnefs, where the youogEngliih gentlemen 
ir fortunes, debafed their morals, and fometimes loft 
ion. 

bion of travelling, which prev^led very much in oqr ^q. 
!» was confidered by the wifer men as one of the princi^ 
of corrupt manners. It was therefore gravely cenfured 
I in his Schoolmafter, and by biihop Hall in bis Quo 
id is here, and in other pafCiges, ridiculed by Shake- 

OHNIQIi. 

X 3 ««/. 



p9 A S y O U L I K E 1 X 

Rof. Ay, of a fnail ; for though he comes flowly, 
he carries bis houfc on his head ; a better jointure, I 
think, than you can make a woman ; befidts, be 
brings his dcftiny with him. 

Orla. What's that ? 

Rof. Why, horns ; which fuch as you arc fain to 
be beholden to your wives for : but he comes arinc4 
in his fortune, and prevents the flander of his wife. 

Orla. Virtue is no horn-maker ; aind my Rofalind 
Is virtuous. 

Rof. And I am your Rofalind. 

Cel. It pleafes him to call you fo; but he fcathi 
Jlofalin^ of a better leer than you. 

Rof Come, woo me, woo me j for now I am id * 
holyday humour, and like enough to confent. What 
would you fay to me now, an I were your very, very 
Jlofalind ? 

Orla. I would kifs, before I fpofce. 

Rof Nay, you were better fpeak firft ; and wh« 
you were graveird for lack of matter, you might take 
occafion to kifs. Very good orators, when Sey art 
out, they will fpit ; and for lovers lacking (God 
W»rn us) matter, the cleanlieft fhift is to kifs. 

Orla. How if the kifs be denied ? 

Rof Then (he puts you to entreaty, and there be* 
gins new matter. 

Orla. Who could be out, being before his beloffti 
fpiftrefs ? 

Rof Marry, that fliould you, if I were your mi- 
(Irefs i or 1 (hould think my honefty ranker than my 
wit. 

Orla. What, of my fuit ? 

Rof Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your 
fuit. Am not I your Rofalind ? 

Orla. I take fome joy to fay, you arcj Becaufc I 
would be talking of her. 

/?2/i Wpjl, in her perfon, I fay, I will not hare you. 

Ork 



A S YO U L I K E I T. 311 

Orla. Then, in mine own perfon, I die. 
Rof., No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world 
is alinoft fix thoufand years old, and in all this time 
:here was not any man died in his own perfon, vide* 
'w/, in a love-caufe. Troilus had his brains dafli'd 
)ut with a Grecian club ; yet he did what he could 
o die before, and he is one of the patterns of love, 
ucander, he would have liv'd many a fair year, tho* 
icro had turn'd nun, if it had not been tor a hot 
nidfummer night : for, good youth, he went but 
orth to wa(h in the Htllefpont, and, being taken 
vich (he cramp, was drown'd -, and the fooliih chro- 
iders of that age ♦ found it was, — Hero of Seftos. 
tut thcfe are all lyes *, men have died from time tp 
mc, and worms have eaten them, but not for love. 

Orla. I would not have my right .Rofalind of this 
und ; for, I proteft, her frown might kill me. 

Rof, By this hand, it will not kill ^ fly : — But come ; 
3w I will be your Rofalind in a more coming<on dif- 
afition *, and afk me what you will, I will grapi it. - 

Orliu Then love me, Rofalind. 

Rof. Yes, faith will I, Fridays and Saturdays, an4 

Orla. And wilt thou have me ? 
Raf. Ay, and twenty fuch, 
Orla. What fay'ft thou ? 
Rof. Are you not good ? 
Orla. I hope fo. 

Rof. Why then, can one defire too much of a good 
jng? Come, fitter, you (hall be the prieft, and marry 
\. Give me your hand, Orlando : What do you 
y, fitter? 
Orla. Pray thee, marry us. 

♦ ^.^^^cbrsMulers •fthat age.) Sir T. Hanmcr reads, €er9ttert^ by 
t advice, ^% Dt^ Warburton Jiints, of ibme anonymous cricick.* 

JOHVSON. 

X 4 C^rf, 



3U A S YOU Lt K £ I t. 

Cel. I cannot fay the words. 

Rof. You muft begin, Willyou^ Orlan^O'--^ 

Cel. Go to— Will you, Orlando, have to wife this 
Rofalind ? 

Orla. I will. 

Rof. Ay, but when ? 

Orla. Why now ; as fad as (he can marry us. 

Rfff. Then you muft fay, / take ibee Rofalindf9r 
^ife: 

Orla. I take thee Rofalind fqr wife. 

Rof. I might a(k you for your commiflion ; but I 
do take thee, Orlando for my hufband : There's i 
girl goes before the prieft ; and certainly, a woman^s 
thought runs before her actions. 

Orla. So do all thoughts ; they are wing*d. 

Rof Now tell me, how long would you have her, 
after you have pofleft her. 

Orla. For ever and a day. 

Rof Say a day, without the ever. No, no, 0^ 
lando ; men are April when they woo, December 
when they wed : maids are May when they are miids, 
but the fky changes when they are wives. I will be 
more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over 
his hen ; more clamorous than a parrot againft rain; 
more new-fangled than an ape ; more giddy in my 
defires than a monkey ; I will weep for nothing, like 
Diana in the fountain ; and I will do that, when you 
fire difpos'd to be merry •, ^ I will laugh like a hycn, 
and that when you are inclined to deep. * 
Orla. But will my Rofalind do fo ? 
Rof. By my life, fhe will do as I do. 

5 ..^^Jnvill laugh Hie a %>,] The bark of the bflMWy 
fnuch refembles a loud laugh. Ste evens. 

* — an^ ibrt lA^en jou are inclined /« s L E B p . ] Wc (hcwM ltld| 
f»WEBP. WARBURTOCf. 

I know not why we ihould read to weep. I believfe moft bk« 
wM)uId be inore angry to have their Jleef hindered than their^ 



A S YOU LI KE IT. 319 

Orla. O, but flic is wife. 

Rof. Or clfc fhc could not have the wit to do this : 
he wifer, the way warder : Make the ^ doors upon a 
soman's wit, and it will out at the cafement 1 (hut 
:hat, and 'twill out at the key-hole; flop that, it will 
iy with the fmoak out at the chimney. 

OrU. A man that had a wife with fuch a wit, he 
might fay, fVii^ whither wilt ? • 

Rof. Nay, you might keep that check for it, •till 
jov^ met your wife's wit going to your neighbour's 
bed. 

Orla. And what wit could wit have to excufe that ? 

Rof. Marry, to fay, (he came to feck you there. You 
(ball never take her without her anfwer, unlefs you 
take her without her tongue. O that woman, that 
nuinot make her fault her hu(band's OGca(ion,* let her 
never nurfe^hcr child herfelf, for (he will breed it like 
ifool! 

Orla^ For thefe two hours, Hofalind, I wiUl leave 
thep. 

^ w taki the Joort] This is an txpreffion ufed in fcveml of 

the midland coancies, inftead of ^ar tbi doors. So in the Co* 
medy of Errors, 

'* The doors are matte againft you.'* 
7*he niodem editors read, ** make the doors faft** in this play, 
and *< the doors are barred againfl you" in the other. 

STBBVBMt. 

' —- Wit^ whitbir wft /] This muft be fome allufion to a 
fioiy well knowu at that time, though now perhaps irretrievable* 

Johnson. 

This was an exclamation much in ufe, when any one was either 
ttilkinfi; nonfenfe, or ufurping a greater fliare in converfation than 
juftly belonged to him. So in Decker's SatiromafUx, 1602 1 
*« My fweet, fFit nvbitbir wilt tbou, my delicate poetical fiiry, &c.** 
The fame expreflion occurs more than once in Taylor the water* 
poet, and feems to h^ve been the title of fome ludicrous perform* 
knee. Stssvens. 

» ""make herfaub her bufiand^s oceafien^yTYkZtU^ reprefenther 
Imlt as occafioned by her hu(band. Sir T. Hanmer reads, hit 
J!l^^kii<f i ^ccniation. Johnson* 



314 A S Y O U L I K EI T. 

Kof. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours. 
Orla. I mufl; attend the Duke at dmner. By two 
o'clock I will be with thee again. 

RoJ. Ay, go your ways, go your ways;— -I knew 
what you would prove ; my friends told mcas mucfa^ 
and I thought no lefs : — that flattering tongue of 
yours won me : — *tis but one cad away, and (o, oome 
death — Two o'thc clock is your hour ! 
Orla. Ay, fweet Roialind. 
RoJ. By my troth, and in good earned, and ib God 
mend me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dao^ 
gcrous, if you break one jot of your promife, or come 
one minute behind your hour, I will think you the 
mofl: pathetical break-promife,' and the mod ballov 
lover, and the mod unworthy of her you call Ro£fc- 
lind, that may be chofen out of the grofs band of the 
unfaithful ; therefore beware my cenfure, and keep 
your promife. 

Orla^ With no lefs religion, than if thou wert io- 
deed my Rofalind : So adieu. 

Rof. Well, time is the old judice that examioei 
all fuch offenders, and let time try. Adieu 1 

> [EmtOrb. 

Cel. You have fimply mifus'd ourfex in your lows- 
prate 5 we mud have your doublet and hole pluck'd 
over your head, and fliew the world what ue bird 
hath' done to her own ned. 

. Rof. O coz*, coz*, coz', my pretty little coz', that 
thou didd know how many fathom deep I am in lofe! 

■ / nmll think you the moft PATHETICAL hnak-pr^mifi^^ Tb«« 
IS neither fenfe nor humoor in this expreffion. We ihoiiU cer- 

uinlv ready at h e i st i c a l BreMk-promifi, His anfwer ooniio* 

it, tnat he would keep his promife wtb no hfs religion^ tk ui ■* 

Warbuetoh. 

I do not fee but that pathetieai may (land, which (eems to if* 
ford as much fcnfe and as much humour as stbeifiUal. JoHiisoir* 

But 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 



315 



t it cannot be founded : my affeAion hath an un- 

own bottom, like the bay of Portugal. 

CeL Or rather, bottomlefs } that as taft as you pour 

eftion in, it runs out. 

Raf. No, that fame wicked baftard of Venus, that 

s begot of thought, conceived of fpleen, and bora 

madnels, that blind rafcally boy, that abufes every 

e*s eyes, becaufe his own are out, let him be judge, 

w deep I am in love: I'll tell thee, Aliena, I can- 

t be out of fi^ht of Orlando : 1 11 go find a iha< 

w, and figh 'till he come. 

Cd. Andrllflecp. {Exnmti 

SCENE II. 
Enter Jaquesy Lords^ and Ftfrejlers. 

Jdq. Which is he that kiird the deer ? 

Lord. Sir, it was I. 

faq. Let's prefcnt him to the Duke, like a Roman 

icjucror : and it would do well to fct the deer's 

rns upon his head, for a branch of vi6kory : Hate 

II no fong, Foreftcr, for this purpofe ? 

RfT. Yes, fir. 

fM. Sing it : 'tis no matter how it be in tune, f6 

nuce noife enough. 

Mufick, Song. 

I, fnai Jhall be have that kiWdtbe deer ? 
B. tits leather Jkin and horns to wear. 



I. Then fing him home : 
Take tb^u no fcorn'- 
To wear the horn^ the born, the born : 
Si was a cr^j ere thou wafi born* 



The reft 
(hall bsar 
this biir«* 
den. 

t.thy 

^ iTil/ ih§u mo/eorn] In former editioas : Tbm/iki him hmip 

reft fltall btar his burden. This ii an admiraoie inftance of 

! Ci^acit^ of onr preceding editors, to fay nodung wojfe. One 

ihoul4 



3i6 A S Y 6 U L I K E I T. 

1. I'ly fatber^s father wore it I 

2. And thy father bore it : 

The horny the born^ the lufly barn^ 

Is not a thing to laugh tv fcom. [Exemt. 

^S C E N E III. 
Enter Rofalind andCelia. 

Rof How fay you now? Is it not paft two o'clock? 
And here's much Orlando ! * 

Cel. I warrant you, with pure love and troubled 
brain, he hath ta'en his bow and arrows, and is gooe 
forth, to deep : Look, who comes here. 

Enter Silvius. 

Sil. My errand is to you, fair youth ; — 
My gentle Phcbe bid me give you this : 

[Giving aktler. 
I know not the contents ; but, as I guefs, 

ihottlderpefly when they wenfoHs, they would at leaft ]iavetab» 
care of the rhimis, and not foiiled in what has nothine to anlirer 
it. Now, where is the rhime to, tbt reft Jhall bear ttis hrdmf 
Otf to aik another queflion, where is the fenfe of it ? Doei dki 
poetinean, that He, that kill'd the deer, fhall be fung lioipe,iii4 
the rd&fhall bear the deer on their backs ? This is l&ying a bnrdeo 
on the poet, that we muft help him to throw off. In fliort, tiie 
nyilery of the whole is, that a marginal note is wifely thmft iBt» 
the text : the fong being defign'd to be fung by a fingle voic^ 
and the flanzas to clofe with a burden to be fung by thewk)fe 
company. Theobald. 

This note I have given as a fpecimen of Mr. Theobald^! ^* 
larity, and the eloqaence with which he recommends his eniMda* 
tions. Johnson. 

♦ The foregoing noify fcene was introduced only to fill npioin* 
terval, which is to reprefent two hours This contra£tioo oftht 
time we might impute to poor Rofalind's 'impatience, but that % 
few minutes after we find Orlando fending his excnfe. I do sot 
fee that by any probable divifion of the a£ls this abfurdity can be • 
obviated. Johnson. 

• Andheri^smuxih Orlando!^ Thus the old copy. Themodoa 
{editors read, but without the leaft authority* 

Ivtttdtrmmh^ Qr'Ondq ii mi b^re. St^itihs. 

Br 



K 



AS YOU LIKE IT* 317^ 

the ftern brow, and wafpifh adtion 

lich (he did ufe as (he was writing of it, 

lears an angr^ tenour. Pardon me, 

n but as a guiltlefs meffenger. 

lof. [reading] Patience herfelf would ftartle at this 
letter, 

d play the fwaggcrcr : — bear thb, bear all ; — 

I fays, I am not fair; that I lack manners ; 

r calls me proud % and that fhe could not love me 

;re man as rare as phcenix. 'Od's my will I 

r love is not the hare chat Fdo hunt. 

ly writes fhe fo to me ? Well, fliepherd, well, 

is is a letter of your own device. 

W. No, I protcft, I know not the contents 5 

•be did write it. 

^of. Come, come, you're a fool, 

d turn'd into the extremity of love. 

w her hand : (he has a leathern hand, 

Tee-ftone-coloured hand ; I verily did think, 

at her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands ; 

* has a hufwife's hand : but that's no matter-— 

ly, flie never did invent this letter . 

is is a man's invention, and his hand. 

Sir/. Sure, it is hers. 

^of. Why, 'tis a boifterous and a cruel ftile, 

lile for challengers ; why, (he defies me, 

LC Turk to Chriftian : woman's gentle brain 

iild not drop forth fuch giant rude invention; 

:h Ethiop words, blacker in their eflfedt 

an in their countenance. Will you hear the let- 
ter ? 

SiL So pleafe'you, for I never heard it yet; 

t heard too much of Phebe's cruelty. 

Rof. She Phebe's me : Mark, how the tyrant 

tes. 

cads.] A^t thou God tojbepberd tunCd^ 

That a maiden's heart bath burrfdf 

Can 



3l» AS t O tJ L 1 K E I r^ 

Can a woman rail thus f ^ ^ 

SsL Call you this railing ? 

Rfff. [Reads.] fFfy. thy Godhead UUd dpart^ ^^ 

1f^&r^fiSbouwitbawoman^ibi$rt? p 

Did you ever hear fuch railing ? 

Whiles the eye of man did woo me^ 

That could do no vengeance ' io me* ^ 

Meaning me a beaft. 



2 



1 



If the fcorn of your bright eyne « 

Have power to raife fucb love in minei j 

jllack^ in me^ what Jlrange effe& ^ 

Would they work in mild afpe& t 

Whiles you chid me^ I did love ; 

How then might your prayers move ? - 

He J that brings this love to tbetf S 

Little knows this love in me : 
And by him fealup thy mind. 
Whether that thy youth and kifid ♦ 
Will the faithful offer take ' 1 

Of me, and all that I can malke | 
Or elfe by him my love defy. 
And then Fll Jtudy how to die*] 

Sil. Call you this chiding ? 

Cel. Alas, poor fhepherd ! 

Rof, Do you pity him ? no, he defervcS no pity*^ 
Wilt thou love fuch a woman ? — What, to nuJic 
thee an inftrument, and play falfe drains upon tbiee? 
not to be endured ! — Well, go your way to hers (fof 
I fee love hath made thee a came fiiake) amd iay this 

3 Vengeance is ufed for ml/chief, Johnson. 
^ Yomb and kind] Kind is thedld word for nmimre. JOBUMnr* 

19 



A S Y O U L I K £ I T. ^19 

to her ; ^1 chat 4f (he love me, I charge her to love 
« thee : if (he will not, I will «cvcr have her, im- 
" lefs thou intreat for her/* If you be a true lover^ 
hence, and not a word ; for here oomes more com- 
pany. lExii Sihdm. 
Enter Oliver. 

OIL Good- morrow, fair ones : pray you, if you 
know 
Where, in the purlieus of this foreft, ftands 
A fhcep-cote fcnc'd about with olive-trees ? 

CeL Weft of this place, down in the neighbour 
bottom. 
The rank of ofiers, by the murmuring ftream. 
Left on your right-hand, brings you to the phicc :- 
But at this hour the houfe doth keep itfelf. 
There's none within. 

Oli. If that an eye doth profit by a tongue^ 
Then ftiould I know you by defcription. 
Such garments, and fuch years : ** the boy is faSr, 
" Of female favour, and beftows himfelf 
" Like a ripe fitter : but the woman low, 
" And browner than her brother." Are not you 
The owner of the houfe, I did enquire for ? 

CeL It is no boaft, being afk'd, to fay, we are. 

OIL Orlando doth commend him to you both. 
And to that youth, he calls his Rofalind, 
He fends this bloody napkin. Are you he ? 

Rof, I am : what muft we underftand by this ? 

Oli. Some of my (hamc ; if you will know of me 
What man Lam, and how, and why, and where 
This handkerchief was ftain'd. 

CeL I pray you, tell it. 

Oli. When laft the young Orlando parted from you. 
He left a promife to return again 
* Within an hour ; and pacing through the foreft, ' 

^ tFUUa MM Imr'H We mnft read, wtkin tw§ bomri. JoHKioir. 
% Chewing 



320 A S y U L 1 K £ I ti 

Chewing the food of fweet and bitter fancy, 

Xx), what befel ! he threw his eye afide, 

i^nd, mark, what objeA did prefent itfelf . 

Under an oak, whofe boughs were mofs'd with 9ffii 

And high top bald with dry antiquity, 

A wretched ragged man, o'er-grown with hair, 

Lay fleeping on his back : about his neck 

A green and gilded fnake had wreath'd itfelf. 

Who with her head, nimble in threats, approach^ 

The opening of his mouth ; but fuddenly 

Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itfelf. 

And with indented glides did flip away 

Into a bufh : under which bufli's (hade 

A lionefs, with udders all drawn dry. 

Lay couching, head on ground, with cat-like watdi 

When that the fleeping man fliould ftir ; for 'tis 

The royal difpofltion of that beaft 

To prey on nothing that doth feem as dead : 

This feen, Orlando did approach the man. 

And found it was his brother, his elder brother. 

Cel. O, I have heard him ipeak of that iame bro- 
ther ; 
And he did render him the moft unnatural 
That liv'd 'mongft men. 

OIL And well he might fo do ; 
For, well I know he was unnatural. 

Rof. But, to Orlando ; — did he leave him thcrc^ 
Food to the fuck'd and hungry lionefs ? 

Oli. Twice did he turn his back, and purposed fo: 
But kindnefs, nobler ever than revenge. 
And nature, ftrongcr than his juft occafion, ] 
Made him give batde to the lionefs, 
Who quickly fell before him ; in which hurtling 
From miferable flumber I awak*d. 

CeL Are you his brother ? 

Rof, Was it you he refcu'd ? 

CeL Was't you that did fo oft contrive to kill him? 

Oli. 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 311 

t)li. 'Twas I ; but *tis not I : I do not fliamc 
To tell you what I was^ fincc my convcrfion 
5o fwcctly taftcs, being the thing I am. 

JRof. But, for the bloody napkin ?— 

OIL By, and by. 
Vhen from the firft to laft, betwixt us two. 
Tears our recountments had mofi: kindly bath'd^ 
!ls how I came into that defert place ; — 
n brief, he led me to the gentle Duke, 
Vho gave me frelh array, and entertainment^ 
Committing me unto my brother's lovc; 
Vho led me inftantly unto his cave, 
There ftripp'd himfelf, and here upon his arm 
The lionefs had torn fome flefli away, 
^hich all this while had bled ; and now he fainted^ 
^nd cry'd, in fainting, upon Rofalind.-^ 
Srief, I recover'd him ; bound up his wound ; 
\.nd, after fome fmall fpace, being llrong at hearty 
rlc fent me hither, (Iranger as I am. 
To tell this ftory, that you might excufe 
Elis broken promife *, and to give this napfkin, 
Dy'd in his blood, unto the fhcphcrd youth^ 
That he in fport doth call his Rofalind. 

CeL Why, how now? Ganymed !-^ — —Sweet ! 

Ganymed ! [Rofalind faints. 

0/r- Many Will fwooh when they do look on blood* 

CeL There is more in it : — coufin — Ganymed ! ^ 

0/f. Look, he recovers. >- 

Rof I would, I were at home ! 

Cel. We'll lead you thither : 
—I pray you, will you take him by the arm ? 

Oli. Be of good cheer, youth : — You a man ?— ^ 
you lack a man's heart, 

Rof. I do fo, I confefs it. Ah, fir, a body would 

• toufin^Ganymtii /] Cclia in her firft fright forgets Rofalind's 
cl)SLra£ker and difguife, and calls out cov/n, then recolledls her^ 
iclfy and fays Ganymed. John serf. 

Vol. III. Y think 



J. 



322 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

think this was well counterfeited. I pray you, tell your 
brother how well I counterfeited. Heigh ho ! — 

0//. This was not counterfeit ; there is too great 
tcftimony in your complexion^ that it was a paffion 
of earheft. 

Rof. Counterfeit, I aflure you. 

OH. Well then, take a good heart, and counter- 
feit to be a man. 

Rof. So I do ; but, i'faith, I fliould have been a 
woman by right. 

CtL Come, you look paler and paler •, pray you, 
draw homewards :— Good fir, go with us. 

on. That will I ; for I muft bear anfwcr back, 
How you excufc my brother, Rofalind. 

Rof. I fhall devife fomething. But, I pray you, 
commend my counterfeiting to him. — Will you go? 



ACT V. SCENE I. 

THE FOREST. 

Enter Clown and Audrey. 

Clown. 

WE (hall find a time, Audrey j— patience, gentle 
Audrey. 
Aud. Faith the prieft was good enough, for all the 
old gentleman's faying. 

Uo. A mod wicked fir Oliver, Audrey; amoftvilc 
Mar- text. — But, Audrey, there is a youth herein the 
foreft lays claim to you. 

Aud. Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no intcreftin 
me in the world : here comes the man you mean. 

EntiT 



A S T d tJ L I K E t t. 32^ 

Enter fFillianti 

. It is meat and drink to me to fee a clown. By 

ptb, we that have good wits, have much to an- 

br : we (hall be flouting ; we cannot hold. 

U. Good even, Audrey. 

i. CJod give ye good even, William. 

7. And good even to you, fir. 

Good even, gentle friend : — Cover thy head^ 
thy head; nay, pr'ythce, be covcr*d. — How 
c you, friend ? 
/. Five and twenty, fir. 

A ripe age : is thy name William ? 
7. William, fir. 

A fair name. Waft born i'the forcft here? 
I. Ay, fir, I thank God. 

Thank God •, — « good anfiver : Art rich ? 
f. 'Faith, fir, fo, fo. 

So, fo ; 'Tis good, very good, very excellent 

aod yet it is not ; it is but fo fo. Art thou 

I Ay, fir, I have a pretty wit. 
Why, thou fay*ft well. I do fiow remembef 
g ; The fool doth think he is wife^ but the wife 
\6ws himfelf to be a fool. ^ The heathen philo- 
, when he had a defire to cat a grape, would 
lis lips when he put it into his mouth ; mean- 

bialhtn pbilo/rfher^ ivben he dejsred to eat a g^ape^ &c.] 
sde/igned as afneer on the fevcral trifling and infignifi- 
logs and adlions, recorded of the ancient philofcphers, by 
srs of their lives, fuch as Diogenes Laertius, Philollratus,. 
t, &c. as appears frotn its being introduced by one of 
fefajhgs. War BURTON. 

ik called The DiStes and Sayinget of the Philo/opbers^ was 
>y Caxton in 1477. It was trauH/ted out of French into 
by Lord River«. From this ^uirformancc, or fome rc- 
ion'ofic, Shakefpcare's knowledge en this fubjc^l might 
sd. Steevens. 

Y a ing 



324 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

ing thereby, that grapes were made to eat, and lips 
to open. You do love this maid ? 

miL I do fir. 

Clo. Give me your hand : Art thou learned ? 

mil. No, fir. 

Clo. Then Icarn this of me ; To have, is to have. 
For it is a figure in rhetorick, that drink, being poured 
out of a cup into a glafs, by filling the one doth etnp- 
ty the other. For all your writers do confent, that 
ipfe is he : now you arc not ipfe^ for I am he. 

mil. Which he, fir. 

Clo. He, fir, that mufl: marry this woman : There- 
fore, you. Clown, abandon — which is in the vulgar, 
leave, — the fociety, — which in the boorifh, is com- 
pany, — of this female, — which in the common is,— 
woman ; which together is, abandon the ibciecy of, 
this female; or. Clown, thou periflieft; or, to thy 
better underftanding, dieft ; or, to wit, I kill thee, 
make thee away, tranfiate thy life into death, thy li- 
berty into bondage : ' I will deal in poifon with thee, 
or in bafl:inado, or in ft^eel; I will bandy with thee ia 
faftion ; I will over-run rhee with policy ; I will kill 
thee a hundred and fifty ways *, therefore tremble and 
depart. 

Aud, Do, good William, 

mil. God reft you merry, fir. [£w/. 

Enter Corin. 

Cor. Our mafter and miftrefs feek you ; come away, 
away. 

^ 7 fwill ilia! in fci/cn mjith thee^ §r in haftinadt^ &r iB /iJi ^ 
fiuill Landy ivtth thee in faSion^ &C.] All this feems tO be tfl ll* 
lufion to fir Thomas O verb ury's affair. Warburtoit. 

The Rcvifal jullly obferves that the affair rf poifimng Onurhj 
ilia / «/ break out till 161$^ Umg afttr SbakeJ^utn hadUfi thtft^ 

STiBVlJrii 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 325 

fo. Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey ; I attend, I at- 
L [Exeunt. 

S C E N E 11. 

Enter Orlando and Oliver. 

hia. Is't pofTible, that on on fo little acquaintance 
(hould like her ? that, but feeing, you Ihould love 
? Jlnd loving, woo ? and wooing, Ihe fhould 
It? And will you perfever to enjoy her? 
^U. Neither call the giddinefs of it in qucftion, the 
jrty of her, the fmall acquaintance, my fuddcn 
ing, nor her fuddcn confenting ; but fay with 
I love Alienaj fay with her, that (he loves me; 
fcnt with both, that we may enjoy each other : ic 
1 be to your good ; for my father's houfe, and 
he revenue that was old fir Rowland's, will leftatc 
n you, and here live and die a (hepherd. 

Erjter Rofalind. 

Ha. You have my confcnt. Let your wedding 

o-morrow; thither will I invite the Duke, and 

his contented followers: Go you, and prepare 

ma ; for, look you, here comes my Rofalind. 

'of. God fave you, brother. 

>//. And you, fair fifter. ' 

lof. Oh, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to 

thee wear thy heart in a fcarf. 

hla. It is my arm. • 

[$/. I thought, thy heart had been wounded with 

claws of a lion. 

>rla. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady 

Amdyi>u^ fairfifttr^l I know not why Oliver (hould call Ro- 
d iiGer. He ukes her yet to be a man. I Aippofe we ihould 
» and \ou^ ZTkdyoMX fair fifter, Johnson. 
liver rpeaks to her in the chiraflerfhe had affumed, of a wo. 
courted by Orlando his brother. CHAyiER. 

y 3 Rof. 



326 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

Rof. Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited 
to fwoon, when he {hewed me your handkerchief? 

Orla. Ay, and greater wonders than that. 

Rof. O, I know where you are : — Nay, 'tis true ; 
—There was never any thing fo fudden, but the fight 
of two rams, and Csefar's thrafonical bragoflnmr, 
faw and ovircan:e: For your brother and my Cftcrno 
fooner met, but they look'd ; no fooner look'd, but 
they lovM ; no fooner lov'd, but theyfigh'd; do 
fooner figh'd, but they alk'd one another the reafoo; 
no fooner knew the reafon, but they fought thcreme^i 
dy : and in thefe degrees have they made a pair rf 
ftairs to marriage, which they will climb incontineot; 
or elfc be incontinent before marriage i they arc ia 
the very wrath of love, and they will together, Cldbi 
cannot part them. * 

Orla. They Ihall be married to-morrow ; and I wiH 
bid the Duke to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter*! 
thing it is to look intohappinefs through anothcrman'3 
eyes ! by fo much the more (hall I to-morrow beat 
the height of heart-heavinefs, by how much I Hull 
think my brother happy, in having what he wiito 
for. 

Rof. Why, then to-morrow I cannot fcrvcjrourtara 
for Rofalind ? 

Or/a. I can live no longer by thinking. 

Rof. I will wea-y you then no longer with idle talk- 
ing. Know of me then, for now I fpeak to fomcpur- 
pofe, that I know, you are a gentleman of goodcon- 
jceit. 1 fpeak not this, rhat you ihould bear a good 
opinion of my knowledge, infomuch, I fay, I know 
what you are-, neither do I labour for a greater cftccm 
than may in fame little meafure draw a belief from 
you to do yourfeif good, and not to grace me. Be- 

* Cfuh canmf prrr' ibsfn."] Alluding to the way of parting dogt 
in wrath. J0HN5OK. 

lievf 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 327 

iievc then, if you pleafe, that I can do ftrangc things : 
I have, Xince I was three years old, conversed with a 
magician, mod profound in his art, and yet not 
damnable. If you do love Rofalind fo near the heart, 
as your gefture cries it out, when your brother mar- 
ries Aliena, you Ihall marry her. I know into what 
ftreights of fortune Ihe is driven ; and it is not im- 
poflible to me, if it appear not inconvenient to ypu, 
to fct her before your eyes to-morrow, human as flic 
is,* and without any danger. 

Orla. Spcak'ft thou in fober meaning ? 

Rof. By my life, I do ; which I tender dearly, tho* 
I fay, I am a magician : ^ Therefore, put you on your 
bcft array, bid your friends ; for if you will be mar- 
ried to-morrow, you fhall ; and to Kofalmd, if you 
wU}. 

Enter Silvius and Phebe. 

Look, here comes a lover of mine, and a lover of 
hers. 

Pbe. Youth, you have done me much ungentlencfs. 
To (hew the letter that I writ to you. 

Rof. I care not, if I have : it is my ftudy 
To fcem defpightful and ungentle to you. 
You arc there follow'd by a faithful (hcphcrd 5 
Look upon him, love him ; he worfliips you. 

Pbe. Good (hepherd, tell this youth what *tis to 
love. 

&7. It is to be made all of fighs and tears. 
And fo ana I for Phebe. 

Pbe. And I for Ganymed. 

Orla. And 1 for Rolalind. 

* Human at fit //.] That is, not a phantom, but the re il Ro- 
falind, without any of the danger generally conceived to attend 
the rites of incantation. Johnson. 

5 Which I tender dearly^ tho^ I fay I am a magician .•] H^'nce it 
appears this was written in James's tim.*, when there as a feverc 
tnquifition after witches and magicians. W a r b u rtom. 

Y 4 M' 



328 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

Rof. And I for no woman. 

5/7. It is to be made all of faith and fcrvicc \ 
And fo am I for Phebe. 

Pbe. And I for Ganymed. 

Orla. And I for Rofalind. 

Rof. And I for no woman. 

SiL It is to be all made of fantafy. 
All made of paflion, and all made of wiflies, 
All adoration, duty and obfervance, 
All humblenefs, all patience, and impatience, 
AH purity, all trial, all obfervance ; 
And fo am I for Phebe. 

Pbe. And fo am I for Ganymed. 

Orla. And fo am I for Rofalind. 

Eof, And fo am I for no woman. 

Pbe. If this be fo, why blaqnie you me to love you? 

Sil If this be fo, why blame you me to love you? 

Orla. If this be fo, why blame you me to love you? 

Rof. Who do you fpeak to, why blame youmetolffot 
you? 

Orla, To her, that is not here, nor doth not hear? 

Rof Pray you no more of this ; 'tis like the howl* 
ing of Irilh wolves againft the moon. — I will hclpyoil 
if I can : [To Silvius.] — I would love you, if I could. 
[To Phebe,] — To-morrow meet me all together.— I 
will marry you, [To Phebe] if ever I marry woman, 
and I'll be married to-morrow. — I will fatisfy you, 
[To Orlando'] if ever I fatisfy'd man, and you (hall 
l^c married to morrow. — I will content you, [TV ^^- 
vfus] if, \yhat pleafes you, contents you, and you 
fhall l^e married to-morrow. As you love Rofa- 
lind, meet; [To Orlando.] — as you love Phebe, meet; 
[To Silvius.] — and as 1 love no woman. Til meet- 
So fare you well j I have left you commands. 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 329 

^;7. ril not fail, if I live, 

Pbe. Nor L 

Or la. Nor I. \Exeunt. 

SCENE III. 
Enter Clown and Audrey. 

Clo. To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey,— to- 
lorrow will we be married. 

jiud. I do defire it with all my heart : and, I hope, 
: is no difhoneft defire, to defire to be a woman of 
lie world. Here comp two of the banifliM Duke's 
»ages. 

Enter two Pages. 

1 Page, Well met, honefl: gentleman. 

Clo. By my troth, well met : come, fit, fit, and a 
fong. 

2 Page. Wc are for you. Sit i*thc middle. 

1 Page. Shall we clap into't roundly, without hawk* 
ng, or fpitting, or faying we are hoarfe, which are the 
>nly prologues to a bad voice ? 

2 Pag(, I'faith, i'faith \ and both in a tune, like 
pwo gypfics on a horfe. 

S O N G. » 

// was a lover and bis lafs^ 

fVttb a beyy and a bo^ and a bey nonino^ 
Tbat o^er t be green corn-field did pafs^ 

In tbe Spring Sime^ the pretty rank tim^ 
Wben birds didjingy bey ding a dingy ding j 
Sweef lovers love tbe/pring. 

I The ftanzas of thU fong are in all the editions e\'idently trtnf- 
pofed : as I have regulated them, that which in the former co- 
pies was the fecond ftanza is now the lall. 

The fame tranfpofition of thcfe ftanzas is made by Dr. Thirlby, 
10 a copy containmg fome notes on the margin, which I have pc- 
^ufed by the favour of Sir Edward Walpole. Johnson. 

Be- 



I 



330 AS y O U L I K E I T. 

Between the acnes of the rye^ 

With a hey^ and a ho^ and a hey nofiino^ 
^befe pretty country folks would lie^ 

Jn the fpring time^ &c. 

^he carol they began that hour^ 

With a hty^ and a ho^ and a hey nonino^ 

How that a life was but a fiower^ 
In the fpring timCy &c. 

Jnd therefore take the prefent timcy 
fP'ith a hey^ and a he j and a hey nonino ; 

For love is crowned with the primcy 
In the fpring timCj &c. 

Clo. Truly, yoiing gentleman, though there was 
no great matter in the ditty, yet the note was very un- 
tuneable. * 

I Page. You are deceived, fir ; wc kept time, wc 
loft not our time. 

Clo. By my troth, yes : I count it but time loftio 
hear fuch a foolifh long. God be with you, and God 
yncnd your voices. Come, Audrey. [Exeunt, 

SCENE IV. 

Another part cfthe for eft. 

Enter Buke Senior^ Amiens^ JaqueSy Orlando^ Oliver ^ and 
Celia. 
Duke Sen. Doft thou believe, Orlando, thatthe boy 
Can do all this that he hath promifed ? 

♦ TruJjj young gentliman, tho* there ivas no greater matter in the 
ditty ^yn tie note ivas ^'cry un tuneable.] Though it is thus in ill 
the printed copies, it is evident from the fequcl of the dialogue, 
that the poet wrote as 1 have rcform'd in the text, ttnnmgahU'^ 
Time and /i/«^, are frequently mifprinted for one another in the 
old editions of Shakefpeare. Thbobald. 

This emendation is received. 1 think very undefervcdly, by 
Dr. Warburton. Johnson. 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. ^31 

Orla. I fometimes do believe, and fomctimcs do 
not; 
As thofc that fear, they hope, and know they fear ^ 

Enter Rojalind^ SihiuSj and Pbehe. 

Rof. Patience once more, whiles our compaft is 

urg'd : 

You fay, if I bring in your Rofalind, ["To tie Duke. 
You will beftow Iier on Orlando here ? 
Dfike Sen. That would I, had i kingdoms to give 

with her. 
Jiof. And you fay, you will have her when I bring 
her? [yo Orlando. 

Orla. That would I, were I of all kingdoms king, 
Rof. You fay, you'll marry me, if 1 be willing? 

ITo Pbebe. 
Pbe. That will I, ftiould I die the hour after. 
Rof, But if you do refufe to marry me. 
You'll give yourfelf to this moft faithful fliepherd ? 
Phe. So is the bargain. 

Rof. You fay, that you will have Phebe, if fhe 

will? [To Sihius. 

Sil. Tho* to have her and death were both one 

thing, 
Rof 1 have promised to m^^ke all this matter even. 

5 Jj tbofe that fiar THEY HOpB an/iiroiv THtY/ear,] ThU 
grange nonfenfe (hould be read thus, 

Jt thoft that f tar their hap, ^«^ knanu their fear. 
i. c. As thofc who fear the ifTue of a thing when they know their 
fear to be well grounded. Warburton. 

The depravation of this line is evident, but I do not think the 
learned commentator's emendation very happy. J read thus, 

Ai thf^fn that fear with hope^ and hopt withyiar. 
Qf thus, with lefs alteration, 

^5 \hoft that fear, they /»(?//, and now the)' fear. 

JoHN80ir. 

Keep 



332 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

Keep you your word, O Duke, to give your daugh- 
ter; 
You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter :— 
Keep your word, Phcbe, that you'll marry me ; 
Or clfe refufing me, to wed this fhepherd : — 
Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her. 
If flie refufe me •, and from hence I go 
To make thefe doubts all even. 

[Exeunt Rof, andCelia, 

Duke Sen. I do remember in this (hepherd-boy 
Some lively touches of my daughter's favour. 

Orla, My lord, the firft time that I ever faw him, 
Methought, he was a brother to your daughter: 
But, my good lord, this boy is foreft-born. 
And hath been tutor'd in the rudiments 
Of many defperate ftudies by his uncle ; 
Whom he reports to be a great magician, 
Obfcured in the circle of this foreft. 

Enler Clown and Audrey. 

Jaq, There is, fuie, another flood toward, and 
thtfe couples are coming to the ark ! * Here comes 
a palp of very ftrange beads, which in all tongues arc 
cali'd fools. 

Clo. Salutation, and greeting, to you all ! 

Jaq. Good, my lord, bid him welcome. This 
is the motley minded gentleman, that I have fo of- 
ten met in the foreft : he hath been a courtier, he 
fwears. 

• H€re iovre a j>ai rf v£KY srnAscE ^eafljt Sec] What/r«''/< 
htafts? and yet fuch as have a name in all languages? Noab'i 
ark is here alluded to ; into which the cl an beafts entered by^f- 
K^ertf, and the unclean by i<iv', male «nd female. It is pjaiD then 
that Shakefpeaic wrote, /^r/^z-ow'tf/ci/V -/unclean ^f^^f/y which 
is highly humourous. Warburton. 

Strange heafts are only what we call odd animals. There is no 
need of any alteration. Johnson. 

Ck. 



A S Y O U L I K E I T. 333 

Clo. If any man dotibt that, let him put me to my 
purgation. I have trod a mcafure ; I have flattered 
a lady, I have been politick with my friend, fmootli 
with mine enemy ; I have undone three taylors ; I 
have had four quarrels, and like to have fought one. 

Jaq. And how was that ta'en .up ? 

Clo. Taith, we met ; and found, the quarrel was 
upon the feventh caufe. ^ 

Jaq. How the feventh caufe ? — Good my lord, like 
this fellow. 

Duke Sen. I like him very well. 

Clo. God*ild you, fir, 1 defire of you the like : • I 
prcfs in here, fir, amongft the reft of the country co* 
pulatives, to fwear, and to forfwear; according as 
marriage binds, and blood breaks : ^ — A poor virgin, 
fir, an ill-favour'd thing, fir, but mine own ; — a poor 
humour of mine, fir, to take that that no man elfe 
will. Rich honefty dwells like a mifer, fir, in a poor 
houfe ; as your pearl, in your foul oyfter. 

Duke Sen. By my faith, he is very fwift and fenten* 
tious. 

^ We found the quarre! was upon the feventh caufe*] So all the 
copies ; but it is apparent from the fequel that we mud read» the 
quarrel *was not upon tie fcuenth caufe. Johnson. 

• 1 defire yovL of the like,] We fliould read, I defire ef jcn 

the like. On the Duke's faying, / like him 'vtry nuelU he replies, 
I defire yoo will give me caufe that I may like you too. 

Warburton. 
I have not admitted the alteration, becaufe there are^ther ex- 
amples of this mode of expreffion. Joh nson. 

• According as marriage hinds y and hlood hreaks ] The Conflruc- 
tioD is, to f'wear as marriage hinds. Which I think is not Englilh* 
1 fafpe6i Shakcfpeare wrote it thus, to fwear and to forfwear^ ai* 
eordtng as marriage bids and hloid bids break. W a r b u r ton • 

I cannot difcovcr what has here puzzled the commentator : /• 
fwear according as marriage hinds ^ is to take the oath enjoin'd ia 
the ceremonial of marriage. Joh nson. 

Clo. 



S34 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

Clo. According to the fool's bolt> fir, and fuch 
dulcet difcafcs. ' 

Jaq, But, for the fcvcnth caufe : how did you find 
the quarrel on the fcventh caufe ? 

Clo. Upon a lye fevcn times removed ; (bear your 
body more feeming, Audrey) as thus, fir. I did dif* 
like the cut of a certain courtier's beard j * he feat me 
\(rord, if 1 faid his beard was not cut well, he was ia 
the mind it was. This is called the Retort courUous. 
If 1 fcnt him word again, it was not wrfl cut^ he 
would fend me word, he cut it to pleafe himfetf. This 
is caird the ^^ip modejl. If again, it was not wellcut, 
he difabled my judgment. This is calPd the Reptf 
churVJb. If again, ic was not well cut, he would an- 
fwer, I fpake not true. This is calPd the Reproof w 
liant. If again, it was not well cut, he would fayi 
1 lye. This is called the Countercheck quarrelfom \ 
and fo, the Lye circumftantialj and the Lye direil. 

Jaq. And how ofc did you fay, his beard was noC 
well cut? 

Clo. I durft go.no further than xhtLye circumftantidi 
nor he durft not give me the Lye direlt^ and fo wc 
mcafur'd fwords and parted. 

Jcq. Can you nominate in order now the degrees 
of the lye ? 

* ^ulctt dtfi(if-i.'\ This I do not underflaod. For fi/a^xiyM 
cafy to read di/courjes : but, perhaps the fault may lie deeper. 

JOHRMir. 

* j^s thufy fir\ I did diflikt the cut of a courtier^ s i^Mrd;] Tkif 
folly is touched upon with high humour by Fletcher in his Queei 
of Corinth. 

'"^Has he famlharly 

l)ijltk\i your yellozv Jiach, or /aid jour doublet 

IVai not txa-'tly frenohijied'f — 

• or dranun jour j^wcr /, 

C'vV ^!ivas ill mounted i' Hm hi givin the lye 

In circle or oblique or femicircje 

0/ dircrt parallel j jcu muft cballeMge him, War«. 



A S If O U L I K E I T; 335 

Ch. * O fir, wc quarrel in print, by the book; as 
nx have books for good manners. ^ I will name you 
lO degrees. The firft, the Retort courteous ; the 
cond, the Quip modeft; the third, the Reply cfaiur- 
h ; the fourth, the Reproof valiant ; the fifth, the 
oofttcrchcck quarrelfome •, the fixth, the Lye with 
rcumftance j the feventh, the Lye dircft. All thefe 

* O^r, nut quarrel in t^inty iy thi hook ;] The poet has, fft 
If ronie» rallied the mode of formal duelling, then fo prevalent, 
th the higheft humour and addrefs : nor coold he have treated 
with a happier contempt, than by making his clown fo know- 
g in the forms and preliminaries of it. The particular book 
re alluded to is a very ridiculous treatife of one Vincentio Saviolo, 
titled. Of honour and honour ahU qaarrels, in quarto, printed by 
'olf, 1594. The firft part of this tradl he entitles, A ttijcourft 
^mef/foryfor allgenilimin that have in regard their hononrs, touch* 
^thi gi'vittg andnceiving thi fyi^ nuherenpcn the Duello and the 
)mbat in divert forms doth tn/ui\ and many other inconveniences for 
:k only of trui knonnUdgi of honor % and the right understand* 
;o OP WORDS, nuhieb hero is fet douun. The contents of the fc^ 
ral chapters are as follow. I. What the reafon is that the party 
ito twhom the lye is given ought to hecome challenger ^ and of the na- 
n rf lies, II. Of the manner and diverfity ofl:es. III. Of the 
^ certain y or dired. IV. Of conditional Ues^ or the lye circum- 
intial. V. Of the lye in general, VI. Of the lye in particular. 
U. Offoolijb lies. VI 11. J conclujson touching the nurejling or rr- 
rmng hoik ofthelye^ or the countercheck quarrelfome. In the 
\Mpttr of conditional lies, fpeaking of the particle if, he fays, — 

inditipnml lies he fnch as are given conditionally ^ thus IF thou 

iftfaidfo orfiy then thsu Heft, Of thefe kind of lie s^ given-in this 
ijtufr, often arife much contention^ whereof no fu^e conclufeon can 
ife. By which he means, they cannot proceed to cut one ano- 
er's throat, while there is an if between. Which is the reafon 
■ Sbakefpeare making the Clown fay, I kneiv vslenfevenjufticts 
M not make up a quarrel: but ^hen the parties v)trt mtt tbemftlves^ 
e of them thought hut of an IF, «/ if you faid fo, then I faid k), a:id 
ey Jbook hands y and fwore brothers. Tour if ts the only peace^ 
aker ; much virtue in if. Caranza was another of thefe authcn* 
:k authors upon the Duello. Fletcher in his laft aft of Love's 
Igrimage ridicules him with much humour. War burton. 

» ■ ■ •'hooks for good manners,] One^ of thefe books I have 
en. It is entitled The Boke of Norture, or Scholc of good Man- 
!rs, for Men, Servants, and Children, vfixhfanspueradmenfam; 
lack letter without date. Stcsvbks. 

yoii 



336 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

you may avoid, but the Lye dired; and you may 
avoid that too, with an If. I knew, when feven juC- 
tices could not take up a quarrel ; b^t when the par- 
ties were met themfelvcs, one of them thought but 
of an tfy as. If ycufaid foy tbeni faid fo\ and thqr 
Ihook hands, and fwore brothers. Your j^ is the 
only peace-maker ; much virtue in If. 

Jaq. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord ? he*s good 
at any thing, and yet a fool. 

Luke Sen. He ufes his folly like a ftalking-borfe, 
and under the prefentation of that, he flioots his wit. 

♦ Enier Hymeny Rofalind in womarts chatbs^ andCeB4* 

Still Music k. 
Hym. Then is there tnirtb in heaven^ 
JVben eartbly tbings made even 

Atone togetber. 
Gocd Duke J receive tby daugbtefy 
Hymen from beaven brougbt berj 

Tedy brougbt ber bitber : 
Tbat tbou migbfjijoin ber band with biSy 
fi^bofe beart within bis bofom is. 

Rof. To you I give myfclf j for I am yours. 

[TotbeDuh 

To you I give myfelf ; for I am yours. [To Orlando. 

Duke Sen. If there be truth in fight, you are my 

daughter. 
Orla. If there be truth in fight,* you are my Rofa- 
lind. 



♦ 



£tifer Hymen.] Rofalind is imagined by the reft of the coo- 
Deny to be brought by enchantment, and is therefore introduced 
by a fuppofcd aerial being in the charader of Hymen. 

iOHRSOH. 
es it pro- 
bable that Orlando fays, i/iJbere he truth in fhape : that is, //* 
fcrttt maj betrujiedi if one cannot ufurp the form of another. 

JORNSOV* 



A S Y O U L I K E I T, 337 

Pbe. If fight aod (hape be true, 
iVhy, then, my love adieu ! 

Rof. rU have no father, if you be not he. 

[To the Duke. 
?\l have no hufband, if you be not he. [To Orlando. 
1^X}t ne'er wed woman^ if you be not (he. [To PheiCi 

Ifym. Peace, ho ! I bar confufion : 
Tis I muft make conclufion 

Of thefe moft ftrange events : 
Here's eight that muft ta^ie hands. 
To join in Hymen's bands. 

If truth holds true contentsi ^ 
ifou and you no crofs (hall part ; 

[To Orlando and Rofalindi 
You and you are heart in heart : 

[To Oliver and Celia. 
You to his love muft accord. 
Or have a woman to your lord. [To Pbehe* 

You and you are fure together^ 
As the winter to foul weather : 

[To the Clown and Audrey 4 
Whiles a wedlock- hymn we fing. 
Feed yourfelvcs with qucftioning ) 
That reafon wonder may diminifti, 
How thus we meet, and Ihefe things fin Kb. 

SONG. 

Wedding is great Juno*s crown^ ^ 
O blejfed bond of board and bed! 

• If truth boUstrui contents,] That is. if xhtn ht truth h truiif 
talefs tratfa faih of veracity. Johnson. 

7 fFiMngis, &€•] Catullus, addreffing himrdf to HymcUf ha« 
this fianza : 

^<r tuis cartat facrisf 
Non qutat Jan prafides 
7trra finihus : at queat 
Te voUnte, ^is huic deo 
Compararsif aufit ? Joh n s K • 

Vol. III. Z iris 



338 A S Y O U L I K E I T. 

'STii Hymen pioples evirj town ; 

High wedlock then be honoured : 
Honour^ high honour and renown 
To Hymen^ God of every town! 

Duke Sen. O my dear niece, welcome thou art tom^ 
Even daughter, welcome, in no lefs degree. 

Phe. I will not eat my word — now thou art mine, 
Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. 

Enter Jaques de Boys. 

Jaq. de B. Let me have audience for a word, or 
two — 
I am the fecond fon of old fir Rowland, 
That bring thefe tidings to this fair affembly. 
Duke Frederick hearing, how that every day 
Men of great worth reforted to this foreft, 
Addrefs'd a mighty power ; which were on foot 
In his own condud: purpofely to take 
His brother here, and put him to the fword : 
And to the Ikirts of this wild wood he came ; 
Where, meeting with an old religious roan. 
After feme queftion with him, was converted 
Both from his enterprize, and from the world: 
His crown bequeathing to his banilh'd brother. 
And all their lands reftor'd to them again. 
That were with him exil'd. This to be true, 
I do engage my life. 

Duke Sen. Welcome young man : 
Thou ofFer'ft fairly to thy brother's wedding; 
To one, his lands with-held ; and to the other, 
A land itfelf at large, a potent dukedom. 
Firft, in this forcft, let us do thefe ends 
That here were well begun, and well begot : 
And, after, every of this happy number. 
That have endur'd ftirewd days and nights with us, 
Shall (hare the good of our returned fortune. 
According to the meafure of their ftates. 

Mean 



AS Y O U . L I K E IT. 339 

1 time, forget this ncw-fairn dignity, 
fall into our ruftick revelry : — 
, mufick ; and you brides and bridegrooms all, 
1 raeafurc heap*d in joy, to the meafures fall. 
iq. Sir, by your patience : if I heard you rightly, 
Duke hath put on a religious life, 
thrown into neglect the' pompous court, 
py. de B. He hath. 

ry. To him will I : out of thefe convertites 
'c is much matter to be heard and learn'd. 
to your former honour I bequeath, [To the Duke. 
r patience, and your virtue, well deferve it. 
to a love, that your true faith doth merit; 

[To Orla. 
to your land, and love, and great allies : — 

[To OIL' 
to a long and well defcrved bed ; — [To Silv. 
you to wrangling ; for thy loving voyage 

[To ibeCUwn. 
tfortwo months viftual'd : — foto your plealures: 
for other than for dancing meafures. 
ike Sen. Stay, Jaqucs, ftay. 
q. "To fee no paftime, I : — what you would have, 
ay to know at your abandoned cave. [^Exit. 

ike Sen. Proceed, proceed -, we will begin thefe rites; 
wc do truft they'll end, in true delights. 

* Tofeenopafiime^ I i^-^^^^^what younjoouli hafVi 
ril ftay to knO'iAj at your abandon d ca-ve.^ 

\ this general feftivity, the reader may be forry to take his 
>rjaques, who appears to have no iharein it, and remains 
i unreconciled to fociety. He has, however, filled with a 
y fenfibility the fpace allotted to him in the play, and pre- 
that refpedt to the lall, which is due to him as a confiAent 
^r, and an amiable tho' folitary mora lilt. 
aaybe obfcrved, with fcarce lefs concern, that Shakefpearc 
I tkis occafion forgot old Adam, the fervant of Orlando, 
fidelity ihould have entitled him to notice at the end of ihc 
as well as to that happinefs which he would naturally have 
, in the return of fortune to his mailer. Stebvens. 

z 2 E P I- 



340 A S Y O U L I K E I T, 

EPILOGUE. 

Rof. It is not the fafliion to fee the lady the Epi- 
logue : but it is no more unhandfome, than to fee the 
lord the Prologue. If it be true, ihu good ttririe needs 
no bujhy 'tis true, that a good Play needs no Epilogue. 
Yet to good wine they do ufe good bulhes ; and good 
Plays prove the better by the help of good Epilogues. 
What a cafe am in then, ^ that am neither a good 
Epilogue, nor can infinuate with you in the behalf 
of a good play ? I am not furnifti'd like a beggar j • 
therefore to beg will not become me. My way is to 
conjure you, and HI begin with the women. I charge 
you, O women, ' for the love you bear to men, to 
like as much of this Play as pleafes them : and I 
charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women, 



' What a cnft am I in tben^ &c.] Ffere (eems to be t 

chafm, cr fome other depravation, which deftroys the ientunem 
here intended. The reafoning probably flood thas, Gm^ nnhn 
needs no hujh^ ^o^d plays need no epilogue, Dut bad wine requires t 
good buHi, and a bad play a good epilogue. What cafe am I in 
then ? To reftore the words is impoffible ; all that can be done 
without copies is^ to note the fault. Johnson. 

* -^furffijh'd like a beggar ,] That is drrffed : fo before, hcwii 
fwnpcd like a liuntfman. Johnson-. 

» / charge you^ *women, for the hvi yon hear /# «#■, /• 

l:ke Ri much f tbts play c.s pleafes xou : and 1 charge jeu, O men^ 

for the lave you hear to ix^omeny that het*ween you and the w§me»p 

&iC.] 1 bis pafTage fhould be read thus, / charge you^ O nvoment 
for the loie you beur io meny to like as much of this play as pUafer 
THEM , and I charge you^ O mrn^ for the love you hear to vuoxtM^ 
•——TO LIKE AS MUCH AS PLEASES THEM, that hefween y9n eut^ 
ihcnuominy &,c. Without the alteration of I'm into Them the in— — 
vocation is nonfenfe ; and without the addition of the words, t^m 
like as much as plafes ihcm^ the inference of, that lefusten yon am^^ 
the vjtmen the play tnay pajs, would be unfupportcd by any prece- 
dent premifes. The words feem to have been ftruck out by fon^^ 
fenfelefs player, as a vicieu^redsndancy. War burton. 

The words you and^*» written as was the cuftom in that tiim^ 
were in manufcript fcarcely dillinguiOiable. 1 he emendation h 
very judicious and probable. Johnson. 

2 f}# 



AS YOU LIKE IT, 



341 



(as I perceive by your fimpering, 'none of you hate 
chem) that between you and the women, the Play 
may pleafe. If I were a woman, ' I would kifs as 
many of you as had beards that pleas'd me, com- 
plexions that lik'd me, and breaths that I defy*d not : 
and, I am fure, as many as have good beards, or 
good faces, or fweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, 
when I make curt'fy, bid me farewel. 

[Exeuni omnes.^ 

' I/Iwin m nvomani[ Note that in this authour's time 

the parts of women were always performed by men or boys. 

Hakmss. 

^ Of this pUy the fable is wild and pleaHng. I know not how 
the ladies will approve the facility with which both Rofalind and 
Celia give away their hearts. To Celia much may be forgivea 
for the heroifm of her friend(hip. The charader of Jaques is na* 
taral and well preferved. The comick dialo^e is very fprightly^ 
wkh left mixture of low buffoonery than in tome other plays ; and 
the grayer part is elegant and harmonious. By haftening to the 
end of his work* Shakefpeare fuppreffed the dialogue between the 
iifurper and the hermit, and loft an opportunity of exhibiting a 
moral leflbn in which he might have found matter worthy of hif 
Ugheft powers* Johnsqst. 



Z3 



THE 



THE 



T A M I N G 



OF THE 



S H R E W. 



Charader8 in the Indudlion. 

A Lord^ lef ore whom the Play is f apposed to hepUtfL 
•^ Chriftopher Sly, a drunken Tinker. 
Hoftefs. 

fagey Players^ Huntfmen^ and other Servants attending en 
the Lord. 

Perfons Reprcfented. 

^aptifta. Father to Catharina and Bianca ^ 'Oerj ri(b. 
Vincentio, an old gentleman of Pifa. 
Lucentio, Son to Vinccntio, in low with Bianca. 
Pctruchio, a Gentleman (t^ Verona, afuitor to Catharinai 

Sonddlo, } Servants to J^Mceiniio. 

Grumio, Servant to Pctruchio. 

Pcdapt, an old fellow fct up to perfonate Vinccntip.' 

Catharina, the Shrew. 
Bianca, her Sifter. 
Widow. 

Taylor^ Haberdajher ; with Servants attending on Bap- 
tifta, and Pctruchio. 

SCENE, fometimts in Padua ; and fometimes infe^ 
truchio*s Houfein tbeCountfy. 



THE 



THE 

*T AMINO of the SHREW- 



INDUCTION- 
SCENE I. 

Before an Alehoufe on n Heatb. 
Enter Hojiefs and Sly. 
Sly. 

I'L L phccfc you, ' in faith. 
Hofi. A pair of docks, you rogue ! 
Sly. Y'arc a baggage •, the Slics are no * rogues. 
Look in the Chronicles, wc came in with Richard 

Con- 

• ^y'c have hitherto fuppofcd Shakefpeare the author of the 
Tuning of the Shrew, but his property in it is extremely difput- 
^ble. I will give you my opioion, and the rrafons on which it 
it founded. I fuppofe then the prcfent play not originally the 
yffork of Shakefpeare, but reftored by him to the ftage, with the 
whole Indudion of the Tinker ; and fome other occafional im« 
provements ; efpecially in the charafter of Petruchio. It is very 
obvious that the Induflion and the Play were either the works of 
different hands, or written at a great interval of time. The for- 
iner is in oqr aMthor's beft manner, and a great part of the latter in 
his no^r^i pr even below it. Dr. Warburton declares it to be cer- 
tainly (purious ; and without Aouht Juppofing it to have been writ- 
ten by Shakefpeare, it muil have been one of his earliell produc- 
tions. Yet it is not mentioned in the lid of his works by Meres 
In IC98. 

I have met with a facetious piece of fir John Harrington, 
printed in 1596, (and pofUbly there may bean earlier edition] 
galled The Meumorphofes of Ajax, where 1 fufpedt an allufion 

t9 



346 T H E T A M I N G 

Conqufror. Therefoi'j, paucas pallabris%^ let the 
world Hide : Sc^a, 

Heft. 

to the old play ; *' Read the Aoch of Turning a Shnw, whick 
haih r.ade a number of us fc pcrfv'^l, that m^v every one can rule 
a ftircw in our ccuntrey, fr/.c iK li .t h::tli hir." — I am aware a 
nodirn linguift may object that the x^'^rd hck does not at prefcnt 
fecm d amatuk^ but it was once :c:b}::caUy (o : GoiTon in hit 
Schoolcof Abufe, containing a i-I. af..:, n I.i'.ic(Rivc a»ainft Poets, 
Pipers, Players, jcftcrs, and fnch lil.v ::tcr;:illr.rs cf a Common, 
wealth, iS79» mentions «* twoo p.oic !:-[:t played at the Bell- 
fauagc ;" and Hearnc tells us, in a r.-.-iz a: chc end of William of 
Worcc'fler, that he had feen a MS. in the nature ci a P.ay or /t- 
tirlu/ie^ irftitled the booh of lir Thomas jVI'.i.re." 

And in fadl there is fuch an old anot;ymous play, in Mr. Pope*! 
lift: •* A plcafjnt conceited hiftory, called. The Taming of * 
Shrew — fundry times afted by the earl of Pembroke his fervants." 
Which fccras to have been republifhed by the remains of that com- 
pany in 1607, when Shakefpcare's copy appeared at the Black- 
Friars or the Globe. — Nor let this feem derogatory from the chi- 
rafterof our poet. There is no reafon to believe that he wanced 
to claim the play as his own ; for it was nor even printed till km 
years after his death ; but he merely revived it oil his ftage isi 
manager. Farmer. 

Jn.fpite of the great deference which is due from every coofflCB- 
tator to Mr. Farmer's judgment, 1 own 1 cannot entirely concur 
with him on the nrefent occafion. I know not to whom I coaU 
impute this comedy, if Shakefpeare was not the author of it. I 
think his hand is vidble in almoft every fcene, though perhaps not 
fo evidently as in thofe which pafs between Catherioe and ft- 
trochio* 

The title of this play was probably taken from an old ftory, en- 
titled, TheWyf hfptd inMorelli Jkin^ or Tht Taming 9/ a Shrtna, 

Steeveks. 

■ Vll phetfi y-.u, ] 'Xo fhtere ox f€ife/\% to fcparate a twit 

into fingle threads. In the ii'.uirative fcnie it muy well ^ocgh be 
taken, \\\ieteaxe ox toze, fort') 'ar^.i/s, Xo plague. Perhaps /'ff 
fbtextycu, may be equivalent to /'// comb your heaJ^ a phrifc 
▼nfgarly ufed by perfons of Sly's c^arr.f^cr on like occafions. The 
following explanation of the word is given by Sir Tho. Smyth in 
his book de Sermone Ang!;co, printed by Robert Stepheat, 4to. 
To feize, means / •' Jua diJ.. an, J o n n '". 1 : :; . 

Shakefpeare repeats his i;fe of the word ii] Troilns and Crcfidat 
where Ajax fays he will pbceje the pride of Achilles ; and Love* 

will 



O F T H E S H R E W. 347 

Hoft. You will not pay for the glafies you have 
burft ? ♦ 

Sly. No, not a denier: Go by, Jeronimy go to 

hy cold bed, and warm thee. ' 

fit in the Alchemift employs it in the fame fenie. Again in 
^ottenhmm's Art of Poetiy, 1589; 

<* Yoar pride ferves you ioftaze them all alone.'* 

Steeveks. 

* no rogutsJ] That is, 'vagrants^ no mean fellows, but 

entlemen. Johnson. 

« paucus pallabns ;] Sly, as an ignorant fellow, is 

orpofely made to aim at languages out of his knowledge, and 
nock the words ootof joint. The Spaniards fay, pocas palahras^ 
, c. few words : as they do likewife, CtJJk^ i. e. be quiet. 

Theobald. 

This is a burlefque on Hieronymo, which Theobald fpeaks of 
s the following note. «* What wtnv dn/ice ka'ue tbiy dtwijed nowf 
ocas pallabras.'' In the comedy of the Roaring Girl, 161 1, 4 
at*purfe makes ufe of the fame words. Again they appear in 
The Wife Woman of Hogfden, 1638, and in fome others, but are 
Iways appropriated to the lowed charaders. Stb evens. 

* y »m ba'Oe burft.] To hurft and to bremk were anciently 
fBonimous. Falftaff iays — that John of Gaunt bmrft Shallow's 
ekl for crowding in among themarihars men. Steevens. 

* G^ly S. JtroHinyf go to thy cold bed ^ and nvarm tbee,] All 
he editions have coined a faint here, for Sly to fwear by. But 
he poet had no fuch intentions. The paflage has particular hu- 
oourin it, and muft have been very pleafing at that time of day. 
iat I muft clear up a piece of ftage hiflory, to make it underftood. 
There is a fuAian old play, called Hieronymo ; Or, The Spaniflt 
Tragedy : which, I find, was the common butt of raillery to all 
ht poets in Shakefpeare's time : and a pafTage, that appeared 
rery ridiculous in that play is here humouroufly alluded to. Hi- 
»onymo, thinking himfelf injur'd, applies to the king for juf- 
dce ; but the courtiers, who clid not deftre his wrones (hould be 
fet in a true light, attempt to hinder him from an audience. 

Hiero.' Jufticty ob I juftice to Uitronymo. 

Lor. Back-j^-^^fti^ft tbou noty tbt king is bufy? 

Hiero. Oh^ is be Jo ? 

King. IVho is ht^ that tntirrupts our bnfint/s f 

Hiero. JVif/ I I'^Hitronymo^ brwtan ; go by, goby. 



348 THETAMING 

Hoft. I know my remedy ; I muft go fetch the 
thirdborough. * 

Sly. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll an- 
fwer him by law : V\\ not budge an inch, boy ; kt 
him come, and kindly. [Falls aJUip. 

Wind horns. Enter a Lord from buntings with a train. 

Lord. Huntfman, I charge thee, tender well my 
hounds : 
Brach Merriman, the poor cur is imboft ; — '' 

And 

So Sly here, not caring to be dun'd by the Hoftefs, cries taher a 
efFc£l, *« Don't be troublefome, don't interrupt me, gdjfyfvii 
to £x the fatire in his allufion, pleafantly calls her Jeronymo. 

Theobald. 
* '^Imufi fo ft\h tbi Headborough. 

Sly* Third, w fourth, or fifth Bofugb^ &c.] 
This corrupt reading had pafs'd down through all the copies, and 
Bone of the editors pretended to guefs at the poet's conceit. Whit 
an infipid, unmeaning reply does Sly make to his Hofteft? Hoir 
do thirds OTfdurtbj or fiftb Boroujrii relate to Headbprongb f Tlie 
author intended but a poor wittiaim, and even that is loft. Tke 
Hoflefs would fay, that ihe'll fetch a conftable : and this officer (he 
calls by his other name, a Tbird^bofugb t and upon this term Slj 
founds the conundrum in his anfwer to her. Who does not per* 
ceive, at a Angle glance, fome conceit fbrted by this certain co^ 
redion \ There is an attempt at wit, tolerable enough for a da- 
\tTt and one drunk too. Tbird^Urougb is a Saxon term fuli- 
ciently explained by the gloflaries : and in our ftatute- books, no 
farther back than the 28th year of Henry VIII. we find it ded 
to fignify a ionftable. Th eob al o. 

Theobald took his explanation of Tbi'-d-bcrtugb, from Cowel'i 
Law D\&. which at the fame time might have taught him CO 
doubt of its propriety. In the Perfonae Dramatis to Ben Joofbo'i 
Talc of a Tub, the bigb-conftablt^ the pnty c^wfiahl , the btai A^ 
rcugb^ SLTid iht tcird'berougb, are enumerated as dUKoA charac- 
ters. It is difficult to fay precifely what the office of a /AiW-ii- 
r0ugb was. Ste evens. 

^ Bracb. Mirriman, ibe pcor cur it tmhoft^ 

Jnd CQupU Clcnvdir *wifbtbi diff-msutb^d Bracb.] 

Hen 



O F T H E S H R E W. ^4, 

coupler Clowdcr with the dccp-mouth'd Brach. 
ft thou not, boy, how Silver made it good 

Al 

(ays Pope, iracb fi^nifies a degenerate hound : but Ed- 
explains it a hound in general. 

It. the latter of thefecri ticks is right* will appear from the 
the word irach in Sir J. Mores's Comfort a^ainft Tribula- 
>ook iii. ch« 24. ** Here it muft be known orVome men that 
(kill of hunting, whether that we miftake not our terms, 
then are we utterly alhamed, as ye wott well.— -And I am 
unning, that 1 cannot tdl» whether among them a bitche be 
tche or no ; but as I remember fhe is no bitche but a BfactgJ** 
[leaning of the latter part of the paragraph feems to be, <' I 
fo little (killed in hunting, that I can hardly tell whether a 
h be a bitch or not ; my judgment goes no further, than 
to dirc£t me to call either dog or bitch by their general 
le — Hoand." I am aware that Spelman acquaints his reader, 
rache was ufed in his days for a lurchtr^ and that Shake- 
himfelf has made it a dog of a particular fpecies. 

Maftiff greyhound ^wmttgrill grim f 
Hound ur fpanitU bracbi or bym. 

K. Liar, ad iii. {c.5. 

it is manifeft from the paflage of More jud cited, that it 
•metimes applied in a general fenfe, and may therefore be fo 
(Ipod in the pafTage before us ; and it mav be added, that 
• appears to be ufed in the fame fenfe by Beaumont and 
icr. «« -^. Is that your brother ? E. Yes, have you loft 
r memory? ^. As 1 live he is a pretty fellow. Y. O this 
fweet hracbeV Scornful Lady, a£t i. fc. 1. 

Warton. 
T. Hanmer reads, Leech Merriman^ that is, apply /ome n^ 

toMerriman, the poor cur has bis^W«/i /uiiied, Perhapi 
ght read, baile Merriman, which is I believe the common 
:e of huntfmen, but the prefent reading may (land : 

tender ivell my hounds : 

Brach'— Merriman tJk poor cur u imhofl. 

JOHNSOlf. 

lieve brack Merriman means only Merriman tbt brach. So ii 
I fong, 

•• Cow Crumbocke is a very good cow.** 

however sppears to have been a particolar fort of hound". 

la 



350 THE TAMING 

At the hedge-corner in the coldeft fault i 
I would not lofe the dog for twenty pound* 

Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord ; 
He cried upon it at the meereft lofs. 
And twice to-day pick'd out the dulleft firent : 
Truft me, I take him for the better dog. 

tcrd. Thou art a fool ; if Eccho were as fkct, 
I would efteem him worth a dozen fuch. 
But fup them well, and look unto them all ; 
To-morrow I intend to hunt,again. 

Hun. 1 will, my lord. 

Lard. What's here ? one dead, or drunk? Scc^ 
doth he breathe ? 

2 Hun. He breathes, my Lord. Were he- not 
warm'd with ale. 
This were a bed but cold, to fleep fo ibundly. 

Lord. O monftrous beaft ! how like a fwine he lies? 
— Grim death, how foul and loathfome is thy image!-- 

Sirs, I will pradtifc on this drunken rtian. 

What think you, if he were conveyed to-bed. 
Wrapt in fweet cloaths ; rings put upojgiliis fingers-, 
A moft delicious banquet by his bed, 
And brave attendants near him ; when he wakes. 
Would not the beggar then forget himfelf ? 

1 Hun. Believe me. Lord, I think he cannot chufc 

2 Hun. It would feem ftrange unto him, when be 

wak'd. 
Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthlcfs 

fancy. 
Then take him up, and manage well the jeft :— 
Carry him gently to my faireft chamber. 

In an old metrical charter, granted by Edward the Confeflbr to 
the hundred of Cholmer and Dancing, in ElFeXy there aK die two 
following lines ; 

•' Four greyhounds Sc (\x Bratches^ 

" For hare, foi, and wild-cattcs." Steevevs. 

I And 



O F T H E S H R ^ W. 351 

Liid hang it round with all my wanton pictures: 

aim bis foul head with w^rm diftilled waters^ 

.nd burn fwect wood, to make the lodging fwcct. 

rocurc me mufick ready when he wakes, 

o make a dulcet and a heavenly found -, 

wild if he chance to fpeak, be ready ftraight, 

.nd, with a low fubmiflivc reverence 

ajf^ What is it your honour will command ? 

,et one attend him with a filver bafon 

uU of rqfc- waiter, and beftrew'd with flowers; 

.nothtr hear the ewer ; the third a diaper ; 

.nd fay- Will'c plcafe your lordlhip cool your 

hands ? 
jmc one be ready with a coftiy fuit, 
nd afk him what apparel he will wear, 
nother tell him of his hounds and horfe, 
nd that his lady mourns at his difeafe : 
crfuade him that he hath been lunatick -, 

nd when he fays he is, fay that he dreams ;* 

or he is nothing but a mighty lord, 
his do, and do it kindly, gentle firs ; 
will be paftime excellent, 

• And ivhen h fays hiis^ -fof thmt hi JriMmSm 

For hi it hothifig but a mighty loriJ\ 

ac can hardly conceive that he would confefs himfelf to beluna- 
; neither is lunacy a thing incompatible with thecondiaon of 
ord. I (hould rather think that Sbakefpeare wrote, 

" And when he fays he's poor^ — fay, that he dreams.*^ 
tie dignity of a lord is then fignificantJy oppofed to the po- 
rty which it would be natural for him to acknowledge. 

Steevens- 

If any thing (hould be inferted, it may be done thus. 

«* Aod when he fays he's ^ly^ fay that he dreams," 
be likcncfs in writing of Sly and fay produced the omiflion. 

JOHNSOK, 

If 



352 THETAMING 

If it be hufbanded with modefty ' 

1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you, we'll play OHf 

part. 
As he {hall think, by our true diligence. 
He is no lefs than what we fay he is. 

Lard. Take him up gently, and to bed with him } 
And each one to his office, when he wakes. 

[Some bear cut Sfy. Sound irumfets. 
Sirrah, go fee what trumpet 'tis that founds. 
Belike, Tome noble gentleman, that means, 

lExii Servat. 
Travelling fome journey, to repole him here# 

Re-enter a Servant. 

How now ? who is it ? 

Ser. An't pleafe your honour, players, 
That offer fcrvice to your lordfhip. 

Lord. Bid them come near : 

Enter Players. 

Now, fellows, you are welcome* 
Play. We thank your honour. 
Lord. Do you intend to (lay with me to night t 

2 Play. So pleafe your lordfliip to accept oiif 

duty. ' 
Lord. With all my heart. This fellow I remembcfi 
Since once he playM a farmer's eldeft fon :— 
*Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman io well : 
I have forgot your name ; but fure, that part 
Was aptly fitted, and naturally performed. 

» uMlefly.^ By moJifly is meant meJerdtUm^ withdnf 

Csficring our merriment to break into an excefs. John son. 

' '■■' to acctpt our Juij.] It was in thofc times the cuftom rf 
rlayers to travel in companies, and offer their fervicc at g#nc 
lioufet. Johnson. 

Simkli. 



O F T H E S H R E W. 355 

Sincklo. I think, 'twas Soto that your honour 
means. * 

Lord. •Tis very true ; thou didft it excellent. 
Well, you are come to me in happy time. 
The rather for I have fome fport in hand. 
Wherein your cunning can aflift me much. 
There is a lord will hear you play to-night ; 
But I am doubtful of your modeflies; 
Left, over-eying of his odd behaviour, 
[For yet his honour never heard a play,) 
Sfou break into fome merry paflion, 
And fo offend him : for I tell you, firs, 
[f you fhould fmile, he grows impatient. 

Pli^. Fear not my lord -, we can contain ourfelves. 
Were he the vcrieft antick in the world. ' 

Lord. 

^I tbinkf *t<u)as Soto* ] I take our author here to be 

Mying a compliment to Beaumont and Fletcher's Women pleas'd, 
in which comedy there is the character of Soto, who is a farmer's 
[on» and a very facetious ferving-man. Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope 
prefix the name of Sim to the line here fpoken ; but the firfl folio 
las it Sincklo ; which, no doubt, was the name of one of the 
^layers here introduced, and who had played the part of Soto with 
ipplaufe. Theobald. 

As both the quarto and folio prefix the name of Sinckk to this 
ine,lwhy (hould we difplace it ? Sincklo is a name elfewhere ufed 
by Shakefpeare. In one of the parts of Henry VI. Humphrey and 
Sinckk enter with their bows, as forefiers. 

With this obfervation I was favoured by a learned lady, and 
lunre replaced the old reading. St sevens. 

' -^fj» the iiuorJd,] Here follows another infertion made by Mr. 
Pope from the old play, which is neither found in the quarto, 
1631, nor in the folio, 1623. I have therefore funk it into 9 
note, as we have no proof that the firfl (ketch of the play was writ* 
yok by Shakefpeare. 

" 2 Play, [fo the other] Go, get a difh-clout to make cleaa 
•• your fhoes, and m fpeak for the properties. • [Exit Player, 

«• My lord, we muft have a (houldcr of mutton for a property, 
^* and a little vineear to make our devil roar." f 

• Property^ in the language of a playhoufc, is every implement nO'. 
ceflkry to the exhibition . Johnson. 

Vouni. A a i-^aliuh 



354 T H E T A M 1 N G 

Lord. Go, firrah, take them to the buttery. 
And give them friendly welcome, every ope: 
Let them want nothing that the houfe affords. — 

[Exit one with tbeplajers. 
Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page. 
And fee him drels'd in all fuits like a lady : 
That done, conduct him to the drunkard's charpbcr, 
And call him madam, do him obeifance. 
Tell him from me, (as he will win my love) 
He bear hin^felf with honourable adion. 
Such as he hath obferv'd in noble ladies 
Unto their lords, by them accomplilhed -, 
Such duty to the drunkard let him do. 
With foft low tongue, and lowly courtefy ; 
And fay, AVhat is*t your honour will command, 
Wherein your lady and your humble wife. 
May (hew her xluty, and make known her love ? 
And then with kind cmbracements, tempting kiffcs, 
And with declining head into his bofom» 

The p^'ulcer rf tr.utifti was indeed ncceflary afterwards for the 
dinner of Peiruchio, but there is no devil in the piece, neiiher were 
fhe players yet informed what comedy they (hould reprcfent. 

Stbevers. 

t —7-^ 'v '^^ I'hcga,' to mahe nur Jtv'tl roar,'\ When the ading th^ 
myncrics of thcOiil and New Tfltameat was in vogue; atthercprf 
fLiUation of tl'.c my ft (I y of the PafTion, JiuKis and the Devil nudci 
part. And the Devil, wherever he came, was always to fufler fomc 
difgrace, to make the ptople laujrh : as here, the buffoonery w«t» 
apply the grill and vincii^nr to make him roar. And the PaffionbciJij 
that, oi .\\\ tl:e mylterics, which was moft frequently reprefentfd, vi- 
negar became at Icn^^il) the (landing implement to torment the deriii 
and uitd for this purpofc even after themyfieries ceafcd, and the mo- 
raiitics came in vo::ue ; where the Devil continued to haveaconfi- 
dcnible pait.- — — -Tiie mention of it here w.»s to ridicule fbabfurd a 
circumil'ince in iliefe old farces. Warburton. 

The hlaiUcr of 'Z-'nnrar was likcwifc ufed for other purpofcs. I mtf^ 
with the fDlIowiniT H^V".^ dire^ion in the old play of Cambyfcs (by 
T, P.elh)n) wi.cn one cf the characters is fuppofcd to die from the 
voniuis ho h\x\ ]u{\ received —Here let a fn: ail bladder of v'augark 
fr'ick'd. I fuppoie to counterfeit blood: red-wine vinegar waschirf/ 
ufed, as appears from the old books of cookery. Steivehs. 

4 Bid 



OCF TFTE^ SHREW. 355 

Bid him (hcd tears, as biping over-joy M 

To fee her nobl^ lord reftor'd to health, 

Whc^^fgr^ twice fcven years hath efteemed him \ 

No better than a poor ahd bathfome* beggar: 

And if'the boy ha'i)e not a woman's gift ' 

To rain a fliowcr of commanded tears. 

An' onion will do well for fiich ^ (hift ; 

Which in a napkin being clofc convey'd. 

Shall in dtfpight enforce a watery eye. 

Sec this difpacch'd, with all the hade thou canft ; 

Ahon Til give thee more nnftrUclions. 

[^Exit Servant. 
iTdhow, the boy will well ufurp the grace, 
Vdice, 'gait, and aftioh of a gentlewoman, 
rfong to hear him call the drunkard, hufband; 
And now my men will ftay themfelves from laughter. 
When they do homage to this fimple pcafant. 
flfin to'counfel them : haply, my prcfencc 
iWaJr well abate the over- merry fplcen ; 
Vyiich otherwifc will ^0 into extremes. [Exit Lord. 

• Who for twee /even years ] In former editions, 

H' bo for t\ii{t /t*vcn yidrs hath tfttewCd bimfilf 
No kettertha^ a poor and loatb/otm beggar • 
I have ventured to alter a word here, againft the authority of 
fthi? pointed copies ; and hope, I (hall be j unified in it by two lab- 
fequei^t paffages. That the poet dciigned, the tinker*$ fuppofed 
lunacy fhould be of Yourteen yeJtrs ftanding M lead, is evideit 
tt^O two parallel j)afrages in the play to that purpofe. 

Theobald. 
,y "^ An onion ] It is not unlikely that the onipn was an expe- 
dient ufcd by the aflors of interludes. Johnson. 
-'^ tio in Anthony and Cleopatra : 

The tears lifit in an onionthat Jhould water 
^ • This furrow* SfEBVEKi. 



A 8 2 SCENE 



$S6 THE TAMING 

SCENE II. 

j1 room in the lord^s boufe. 

Enter Sly vntb Attiniants^fomt with appwrel^ bafon and 
ewer J and etber appurtenances. Re-enter Lord. 
Sly. For God's lake, a pot of fmall ale. 
I Man. Wiirt pleafe your lordfliip drink a cup of 

fack? 
s Man. Wiirt pleafe your honour tafte of tbeie 

conferves ? 
3 Man. What raiment will your honour wear to- 
day ? 
Sh. I am Cbriftophero Slv, call not me — HonouTt 
nor Lordfliip : I ne'er drank fack in my life ; and if 

Jou give me any conferves, give me conferves of beef, 
f e'er a(k me what raiment Til wear % for I have no 
more doublets than backs, no more ftockings than 
legs, nor no more flioes than feet ; nay, IbmetimeSi 
more feet than fhoes, or fuch ihoes as my toes look 
through the over-leather. 
Lard. Heaven ceafe this idle humour m your h> 
nour I 
Oh, that a mighty man, of fuch defcent. 
Of fuch pofleffions, and fo high efteem. 
Should be infufed with fo foul a fpirit ! 

Sly. What, would you make me mad ? am not I 
Chriftopher Sly» old Sly's fon * of Burton^heatb; 
by birth a pedlar, by education a card- maker, by 
tranfinutation a bear-herd, and now by prefent pro- 
feffion a tinker ? a(k Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife 
of Wincot, if (he know me not: if fhe %, lam 

• .——.0/' BwrUn-hiOth Muriati Hacket, the fat ali-wfi •/ 

WtncotJ] I fiifpea we fliould read Bart9n'beaib. Bartm uA 
W^Ummcot^ w, at it if vatgirly pronottnced, fFowcat^ are both of 
them in Glofterihile, near the refidence of Shakefpeare'i M 
enemy» Juftice Shallow. Very probably too, this fat ak^^wife 
might be a teal charaAer. SriBvaxi • 

6 not 



O F T H E S H R E W. ss7 

3t fourtecn-pencc on the fcorc for fliecr ale, fcore 
le up for the lying'ft knave in Chriftendom. What, 
am not beftraught: Here's 

1 Man. Oh, this it is that makes your lady mourn. 

2 Man. Oh, this it is that makes your fer^ants 

droop. 
Lord. Hence comes it, that your kindred fhun your 

houfe, 
.s beaten hence by your ftrange lunacy. 
»h, noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth ; 
all home thy ancient thoughts from baniihment, 
Jid banifh hence thefe abjedt lowly dreams. 
.ook, how thy fervants do attend on thee ; 
ach in his office ready at thy beck, 
/ih thou have mufick? hark! Apollo plays, 

IMufici. 
nd twenty caged nightingales do ling. 
ir wilt thou fleep ? we'll have thee to a couch, 
ofter and fweeter than the luftful bed 
>n purpofe trimm'd up for Semiramis. 
ay, thou wilt walk, we will beftrow the ground : 
)r wilt thou ride ? thy horfes fhall be trapp'd, 
*heir harnefs fludded all with gold and pearl, 
toft thou love hawking ? thou haft hawks, will foar 
.bove the morning lark. Or wilt thou hunt ? 
*hy hounds fhall make the welkin anfwer them, 
.nd fetch Ihrill echoes from the hollow earth. 

1 Man. Say, thou wilt courfe, thy greyhounds are 

as fwifc 
lS breathed ftags, ay, fleeter than the roe. 

2 Man. Doft thou love pictures ? we will fetch 

thee ftrait 
Ldonis, painted by a running brook ; 
Lnd Cytherea all in fedges hid ; 
Vhich fcem to move and wanton with her breath, 
Lven as the waving fedges play with wind. 

A a 3 Lord. 



358 T H E T A M I N O 

Ijor^. We'll (hew thee lo, as fhe was a maid \ 
• And how ftic was beguiled and furpris'd, 
As lively painted as the deed was done. 

3 Man. Or Daphne, roaming through a thorny 
wood ; 
Scratching her legs, that one (hall fwcar Ihe bleeds; 
And at that fight (hall fad Apollo weep. 
So workmanly the blood and tears arc drawn. 

Lord. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord : 
Thou haft a lady far more beautiful 
Than any woman in this waining age. 

1 Man. And 'till the tears that (he hath (bed for 

thee, 
Like envious floods o'er-ran her lovely face, 
She was the faireft creature in the world ; 
And yet (he is inferior to none. 

Sly. Am I a lord ? and have I fuch a lady ? ' 
Or do I dream ? or have 1 dream'd *till now J 
I do not fleep : I iee, I hear, ! fpeak -, 
I fmcll fwcct favours, and I feel foft things : 
Upon my life, I am a lord, indeed ; 
And not a Tinker, not Chriflophero Sly. — 
Well, bring our lady hither to our fight ; 
And once again, a pot o' the fmalleft ale. 

2 Man. Will'tpleafe your mightinefs to wa(hyour 

hands ? 
Oh, how we joy to fee your wits reftpr*d ! 
Oh, that once more you knew but what you arc! 
Thefe fifteen years you have been in a dream. 
Or, when you vvak'd, fo wak'd as if you flept. 

Sly. Thefe (iftcen years ! by my fay, a goodly nap. 
But did I never fpeak of all that time? 

I Man. Oh,.yes, my lord ; but very idle words:— 
For tho' you lay here in this goodly chamber. 
Yet would you fay, ye were beaten out of door; 
And rail'd upon the hoftefs of the houfc ; 

An4 



O F T H E S H R E W, J59 

fay, you would prcfcnt her at the ' I.cct, 

ufe (he bought ftone-jugs, and no feal'd quarts j 

etimes, you would call out for Cicely Hacket, 

^^. Ay, the woman's maid of the honfe. 

Man. Why, fir, you know no houfe, nor no fuch 

maid ; 
no fuch men, as you have reckoned up ; 
Itephcn Sly, and old John Naps of Greece, 
Peter Turf, and Henry Pimpcrnell ; 
twenty more fuch names and men as thefe, 
ch never were, nor no man ever faw. 
^ Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends ! 
H. Amen.— ^ 

Enter lady^ with attendants. 

y. I thank thee ; — thou (halt not lofe by it, 

idy. How fares my noble lord ? 

y. Marry, I fare well j for here is cheer enough. 

Te is my wife ? 

idy. Here, noble lord : What is thy will with her? 

y. Are you my wife, and will not call me — huf- 

band ? 
men (hould call me — lord, I am yourgood-man. 
dy. My hu(band and my lord, my lord and hufband i 
\ your wife in all obedience. 
y. I know it well : What muft I call her ? 
ord. Madam. 

"Lett,'} As the Ccurf tat, or courts of the manor. 

Johnson. 
n this place, Mr. Pope, arid after him other editors, had in- 
ced the three following fpecches, from the old edition 1607, 
e already obfcrved that it is by no means certain, thnt the 
T comedy of the Taming the Shrew was written by Shakcr 
r, and have therefore removed them from the text. 
*« Sty, By the mafs, I think I am a lord indeed, 
" What is thy name? 
" Man, Sim, an it plcafc your honour. 
Sty, Sim? that's as much as to f-y, Simeon, 
f* or Simon. Put forth thy hand, and fill the pot.'' 

A a 4 $Jy. 



.^ r H E T A M I y G 

. - icc madam^ or Joan madz^ - 
^J4i*. Madam, and nothing cl^ ii lords call la- 
dies. 
Jrjr. ■ Madam wife, they fay thar I iaere drcam'd, 
and (lepc 
Adovc ibmc fifteen years and more. 

Ladf. Ay, and the time feems thrrr jicm me. 
Being ail this time abandon'd froai yccr bed. 

Slj. *Tis much ; Servants, leaTc sc and her 

alone. 
Madam, undrefs you, and come xx>w co-bed. ' 

Loot. Thrice noble lord, let me iatrcit of you, 
To pardon me yet for a night or two ; 
Or, if not fo, until the fun be fet : 
For your phyficians have exprefly charg'd. 
In peril to incur your former malady. 
That I {hould yet abfent me from your bed. 
I hope, this reafon Hands for my excufe. 

SIj. Ay, it ftands fo, that I may hardly tarry fo 
k)ng. But I would be loth to fall into my dreams 
again : I will therefore tarry in defpight of the fldh 
and the blood. 

Enier a Mejfetiger. 
Miff. Your honour's players, bearing your amend* 
ment. 
Are come to play a picafant comedy. 
For fo your dodors hold it very meet ; 
Seeing too much fadncfs hath congeal'd your blood, 
And melancholy is the nurfe of frenzy. 
Therefore, they thought it good you hear a play, 

' Mr. Pope, as I fuppofe, made likew'fe the following addition 
to thu fpeech, for f cannot find the paflage in either of the old 
copiej, uioagh it has been inferted in ail the modem editions of 
Shakefpeare. 

" 5>. Come, fit down on my knee. Sim^ drink to her." Mi* 
Jan, &c. St E EVENS. 

« — ruM «ni; to-Ud.^ Here Mr. Pope adds again— ^i»y ^«*»* 
tfi hit. STCtvciri. 

And 



O F T H E S H R E W: s^f 

And frame your mind to mirth and merriment. 
Which bars a thoufand harms, and lengthens life. 

Sly. Marry, 1 will ; let them play : Is not a Com- 
monty, a Chriftmas gambol, or a tumbling trick ? 

Lady. No, my good lord ; it is more pleafing ftuff. 

Sly. What, houfliold ftuff ? 

l^dy. It is a kind of hiitory. 

Sly. Well, we'll fee't : come, madam wife, fit by 
my fide, and let the world flip, we fiiall ne'er be 
younger. 

^ Is Mct a commonty 9 a Cbrtftmas gamhol^ or a tumbling trick f'\ 
Thus the old copies ; the modern ones read» // // not a commoditj^ 
&c. Commonty tor comedy, ^c. Stbitens. 



ACT 



j62 THE TAMING 

ACT I. SCENE L 

A Street in Padua. 
Fkurijh. Enter Lucentio and bis man Cranio. 

LuCENTlO, 

TR A N I O, Cnce — for the great defirc I ha4 
To fee fair Padua, nurfery of arts, — 
I am arrived for fruitful Loirtbardy, ' 
The pleafant garden of great Italy ; 
And, by my father's love and leave, am armM 
With his good will, and thy good company : 
Moft trufty fervant, well approved in all, 
Here let us breathe, and happily inftitute 
A courfe of learning, and * ingenious ftudies, 
Pifa, renowned for grave citizens, ^ 
Gave me my being •, and my father firft, 
A merchant of great traffick through the world-: 

» from fruitful LomiarJy,] So Mr. Theobald. The for- 

iner editions, inftead ofyrcw, had /(?r. Johnson. 

Padua is a city of Lombard/, therefore Mr, Theobald's emen- 
dation is unneceHary. St e evens. 

* ingfmous] I rather think it was written ingenuous fludia^ 

but of this and a thoufand fuch obfervations there is little certaint]f. 

Johnson. 
' Pifa, nnvwned for grafte citizens J\ This pafTage, I tliink| 
fhould be read and pointed thus : 

Fifa^ renowned for grave citizens^ 

Ga've me my heing^ and my father firft ^ 

A merchant of great traffick through the ivcrUy 

Vincent io^ come tf the Bentivotii^ 

Jn the next line, which (hould begin a new fentencc, Fincemio his 
fen^ is the fame as Finlentio^s fon^ which the author of the Re- 
vifal not apprehending, has propofed to alter Vincentio into Lu- 
centio. 

Obfervations and Conjedlures, &c. printed at Oxford, 1766. 

Vin- 



"OF THE SHREW- 363 

Vincentio, come of the Bcntivolii. 
Vincentio his fon, brought up in Florence, 
}t (hall become, to ferve all hopes conceived, 
To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds : 
And therefore, Tranio, for the time I ftudy. 
Virtue, and that part of philofophy + 
"Will I apply, that treats of happinefs 
By virtue Specially to be atchiev'd. 
Tell me thy mind j for I have Pifa left. 
And am to Padua comej as he that leavei 
A (hallow plafh, to plunge him in the deep, 
And with fatiety feeks to quench his thirft, 

Tra. M^ pardtmato^ ^ gentle mader mine, 
I am in all afFcfted asyourfelf; 
Glad, that you thus continue your refolve, 
To fuck the fweets of fweet philofophy. 
Only, good mafter, while we do admire 
This virtue, and this moral difcipline, 
Let*s be noStoicks, nor no (locks, I pray; 
Or, fo devote to Ariftotle's checks, ^ 
As Ovid be an out-caft quite abjured. 
Talk logick with acquaintance that you have. 
And praftice rhetorick in your common talk; 
Mufick and poefy, ufe to quicken you ; 
The mathematicks, and the metaphyficks. 
Fall to them, as you find your ftomach ferves you ; 
No profit grows, where is nopleafure ta*en: 
In brief, fir, ftudy what you moft affeft. 

Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well doft thou advi(e. 
If, Biondello, thou wert come afhore, 

♦ Firtuff and ib at part of phtlofophy\ Sir Thomas Hanmcr, and 
after him Dr. Warburton, read to virtue ; but formerly ply and 
upflj were indifferently ufed, as X.o ply or apply his ftudies. 

Johnson. 

* Me pardonato.'\ We fhould read, M/ /Wowtf/^. Steevens* 

f — AriftotWi deckjy] are, I fuppofe, the harfti rules of Ariftotlc. 

Steevens. 

Wc 



^6+ T H E T A M I N G 

We could at once put us in rcadincfs ; 
And take a lodging, fit to entertain 
Such friends, as time in Padua fhall beget. 
But (lay a while : What company is this ? 

2r^. Mafter, fome fhcw, to welcome us to town; 

Enter Baptijia with Catbarina and Bianca. Gremio aid 
Hortenfio. Lucentio and Cranio fiand by. 

Bap. Gentlemen, importune me no farther. 
For how I firmly am refolv'd, you know : 
That is, not to beftow my youngeft daughter. 
Before I liave a hufband for the elder : 
If either of you both love Catharina, 
Becaufe I know you well, and love you well, 
Leave fhall you have to court her at your pleafurc. 

Gre. To cart her rather : fhc's too rough for me. 
There, there, Hortenfio, will you any wife ? 

Catb. I pray you, fir, is it your will 
To make a flale of me amongfl thefe mates ? 

Hor. Mates, maid ! how mean you that ? no mates 
for you, 
Unlefs you were of gentler, milder mould, 

Catb. Vfaith, fir, vou fhall never need to fe^ j 
I wis, it is not half^ way to her heart : 
But, if it were, doubt not, her care fhall be 
To comb your noddle with a three-legg'd flool. 
And paint your face, and ufe you like a fool. 

Hor. From all fuch devils, good Lord, deliver us! 

Gre. And me too, good Lord ! 

Tra. Hufh, matter, here's fome good paftimc 
toward ; 
That wench is flark mad, or wonderful fro- 
ward. 

Luc. But in the other's filence I do fee 
Maid's mild behaviour and fobriety* 
Peace, Tranio. 

^ra^ Well faid, matter ; mum 1 and gaze 
your fill. 

Bap. 



^ 



O F T H E S H R E W. 365 

Bap. Gentlemen, that I may foon make good 
What I have faid — Bianca, get you in : 
And let it not difpleafe thee, good Bianca : 
For I will love thee ne*er the Ids, my girK 

Catb. A pretty peat ! ^ 'tis beft 
Put finger in the eye, an fhe knew why. 

Bian. Sifter, content you in my difcontent. 
— Sir, to your picafure humbly I fubfcribe : • £ 

My books and inftruments, fhall be my company ; 
On them to look, and pradile by myfelf. 

Luc. Hark, Tranio-, thou may'ft hear Minerva 
fpcak. [aftde. 

Hot. Signior Baptifta, will you be fo • ftrange I 
Sorry am 1, that our good-will effcdts 
Bianca*s grief. 

Grt. Why, will you mew her up, 
Signior Baptifta, for this fiend of hell. 
And make her bear the penance of her tongue .? 

Bap. Gentlemen, content ye -, I am refolv*d. -. 

Go in, Bianca. [Exit Bianca. 

And for I know, flie taketh moft delight 
In mufick, inftruments, and poetry, 
School-mafters will I keep within my houfe. 
Fit to inftruft her youth. — If you, Hortenfio,— 
Or fignior Gremio, you, — know any fuch, 

^ A pretty peat.] PtAt ot pet is a word of endeannent from/#^ 
titfiittU, as ifit meant pretty little thing. Johnson. 

This word is ufed in the old play of King Leir (not Shake* 
fpeare's) 

** Gon. I marvel, Ragan, how yoa can endure 

** To fee that proud, pert peat, our youngefl fifter, &c.'» 
and is, I believe, of Scotch extratlion. I find it in one of the pre* 
verbs of that country, where it ^ignihts darling. 

" He has fault of a wife, that marries roam's///.'* i. e. He it 
in great want of a wife who marries one who is her mother's dar- 
Ibg. Stbevbns. 

■ — ; 'foftrangtt\ That is, fo odd, fo dilTerent from 

others in your condu^. Johnson. 

6 Prefer 



3«6 tHETAMING 

Prefer them hither: for to cunning men * 
I will be very kind ; and liberal 
To mine own children, in good bringing up j 
And fo farewel. Catharina, you may ftay. 
For I have more to commune with Bianca. [Exit. 
Cath. Why, and, I truft, I may go too, May I not ? 
What, fhall i be appointed hours, as tho*, belike 
I knew not what to take, and what to leave ? Ha ! - 

[ExiL 
Gre. You may go to the devil's dam. Your gifts 
arc fo good, here is none will hold you. Our love is 
not fo great Hortenfio, but we may blow our nails to- 
gether, and faft it fairly out. Our cake's dough on 
both fides. Farewel : — Yet for the love I bear my 
fweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit 
man, to teach her that wherein (he delights, I will 
wifh him to her father. 

Hot. So will I, fignior Gremio : But a word I 
pray. Though the nature of our quarrel never yet 
brook'd parle, know now, upon advice, it toucheth 
mboth, — that we may yet again have accefs to our fair 
miftrefs, and be happy rivals in Bianca's love— -to la* 
bour and efFcft one thing specially. 

Gre. What's that, I pray ? 

Hor. Marry fir, to get a hufband for her fitter. 

Gre. A hufband ! a devil ! 

Hor. I fay, a hufband. 

Gre. I fay, a devil. Think'ft thou, Hortenfio, rho* 
her father be Very rich, any man is fo very a fool to 
be married to hell ? 

Hor. Tufli, Gremio ! tho* it pafs your patience 
and mine to endure her loud alarums, why, man, there 
be good fellows in the world, an' a man could light 

• Cunning tiun.] Cunning had not yet loft its original /i^oi£- 
cation of knowings learned^ as may be obferved in the tranflatiofl 
of the Bible. Johnson^ 

on 



O F T H E S H R E W. 367 

on them, would take her with all her faults, and 
mony enough. 

Gre. I cannot tell : but I had as lief take her 
dowry with this condition, — to be whipped at the high 
crofs every morning. 

Hor. *Faith, as you fay, there's a fmall choice in 
rotten apples. But, come -, fince this baf in law 
makes lis- friends, it fhall be fo far forth friendly 
maintained, 'till by helping Baptifta's eldeft dauglitfef 
to a hulband, we fct his youngeft free for a hufbahd, 
and then have to't afrcfli. Sweet Bianca ! Happy man 
be his dole ! He that runs fafteftgets the ring. 'How 
fay you, fignior Gremio ? 

Gre. I am agreed ; and 'would I had given him the 
bed horfe in Padua to begin his wooing, that would 
thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and fid 
thehoufeofhen Come on. [Exeunt Gremio andHcrUfifio, 

Manent Cranio and Lucentio. 

Tra. I pray, fir, tell me,' — Is it poffiblc 
That love (hould on a fudden takefuch hold? 

Luc. Oh, Tranio, 'till I found it to be true, 
I never thought it pofTible, or likely. 
But fee, while idly I flood looking on, 
I found the effecft of love in idlenefs : 
And now in plainnefs do confefs to thee, 
(That art to me as fecret, and as dear. 
As Anna to the queen of Carthage was) 
Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perifti Tranio, 
If 1 atchieve not this young modeft girl. 
Counfel me, Tranio, for, i know, thou canft; 
Affift me, Tranio, for, I know thou wilt. 

Tra. Matter, it is no time to chide you now ; 
AfFeftion is not rated from the heart. 
If love hath touch'd you, nought remains but fo, ' 

Redime 

■ If love bath rovQH*Dyouy nought remaint hut /q^'\ The next 
line from Terence, (hews that we ihould read, 

I/kwibaib TOYL'Djr««,— 

L e. taken 



368 T H E T A M I N G 

f Redime te captum quam queas minimo. 

Luc. Gramercy, lad ; go forward : this contents ^ 
The reft will comfort, for thy counfePs found. 

Tra. Mafter, you look'd fo longly on the maid. 
Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all. 
Lmc. O yes, I faw fwect beauty in her face ; 
Such as the daughter of Agenor had. 
That made great Jove to humble him to her hand, 
^hen with his knees he kifs*d the Cretan ftrand, 
Tra. Saw you no more ? marked you not how her 
fitter 
Began to fcold, and raife up fuch a ftorm. 
That mortal ears might hardly endure the din ? 
Luc. Tranio, I faw her coral lips to move. 
And with her breath fhe did perfume the air ; 
Sacred, and fweet, was all I faw in her. 

Tra. Nay, then, *tis time to ftir him from his trance, 
I pray, awake, fir : If you love the maid. 
Bend thoughts and wit to atchieve her. Thus it 

ftands ;— 
Her eldeft fitter is fo curft and fhrewd. 
That, till the father rid his hands of her. 
Matter, your love mutt live a maid at home j 
And therefore has he clofcly mew*d her up, 
Becaufe fhe fhall not be annoy'd with fuitors. 

Luc. Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he! 
But art thou not advis'd he took fome care 
To get her cunning fchool-maftcrs to inttruft her ? 

i. e. taken you in his toils, his nets. Alluding to the caftMs tjf, 
bahetf of the fame author. V^^ar burton. 

* Redime, &c.] Our author had this line from Lilly, which 
I mention, that it may not be brought as an argument of his 
learning. Johnson. 

Mr. Fanner's pamphlet affords an additional proof that this liof 
wi^ taken from Lilly, and not from Terence ; becaufe it is quoted^ 
.ai it appears in iht grammarian, and not as it appe^s in i^e put. 

SrafvcNs. 



O F T H E Sf H R E W. 3^9 

f>j* Ay, marry, ami, firj and now *tis plotted. 

Luc. I have it, Tranio. 

Tra. Matter, for my hand. 
&och our inventions meet and jump in onc^ 

Luc. Tell me thine firft. 

Tra. You will be fchool-mafter, 
And undertake the teaching of the maid: 
That's your device. 

Luc. It is : May it be done ? 

Tra A Not poffible ; For who fhall bear your paf^ 
And be in Padua here Vincentio's fon ? 
Keep houfe, and ply his book, welcome his friends^ 
Vifit his countrymen, and banquet them ? 

Luc. Bafta j • — content thee ; for I have it full4 
We have not yet been fcen in any houfe^ 
Nor can we be diftinguifh'd by our faces» 
For man or maftcr : then it follows thus:— • 
Thou (halt be mafter, Tranio, in my ftead 1 
Keep houfe, and ' port, and fervants, as I fhould^ 
[ will fome other be \ fome Florentine, 
Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pifa. 
Tis hatch'd^ and fhall be fo : Tranio, at once 
Uncafe thee ; take my coloured hat and cloak* 
W^hen Biondello comes, he waits on thee : 
iuc I will charm him firft to keep his tongue. 

Tra. So had you need. \^b^y excban^i balntS4 

\n brief, dr, fith it your pleafure is, 
%nd I am tied to be obedient, 
Forfo your father charg'd me at our parting 1 
kferviceable to my fon, quoth he, 
\ltho', I think, 'twas in another fenfe) 
[ am content to be Lucentio, 
fecaufe fo well I love Lucentio. 

• Bafta >] i. c, Uh enough ; Italian and Spaniflu This ex- 
preffion occurs in the Mad Lover, and the Little French Lawyer, 
)f fieaaoMnt and Fletcher. St sevens. 

< P«r/.] Ptfr/, if figore, fliow, appearance. JoHiitOR. 

Yqu III. B b Luc: 



370 THE TAMING 

Luc. Tranio, be fo, becaufc Lucentio loves: 
And let me be a flave, to atchieve that maid. 
Whole fuddcH fight hath thralPd my wounded eye. 

Enter Biondello. 
Here comes the rogue. Sirrah, where have you been? 
Bion. Where have I been ? Nay, how now, where 
are you ? Mafter, has my fellow Tranio ftolen your 
deaths ? or you ftolen his ? or both ? pray, whafs 
the news ? 

Luc. Sirrah, come hither: *tis no timctojeftj 
And therefore frame your manners to the time. 
Your fellow Tranio, here, to favc my life. 
Puts my apparel and my countenance on. 
And 1 for my efcape have put on his : 
For in a quarrel, fince I came afhore, 
I kiird a m«n, and, fear, I am defcry'd : 
Wait you on him, 1 charge you, as becomes. 
While I make way from hence to fave my life. 
You underftand me? 

Bion. Ay, fir, ne'er a whit 

Luc. And not a joe of Tranio in your mouth; 
Tranio is chang'd into Lucentio. 

Bion. The better for him : 'Would, I wercfotoo! 

Tra. So would I, 'ifaith, boy, to have the next 
wifh after ; that Lucentio, indeed, had Baptifta*$ 
youngeft daughter. But, firrah, not for my fake, but 
your mafter's, I sdvife you, ufe your manners dif- 
erectly in all kind of companies : when I am alone, 
why, tlicn 1 am Tranio ; but in all places elfe, your 
mafter Lucentio. 

Luc. Tranio, let's go : one thing more refts, that 
thyfelf execute; to make one among thcfc wooers: 
if thou afk me why, fufficeth, my reafons are both 
good and weighty \ 

SCENE 

■-^osJ ami tvfigbfj.] The divifion for the (econd aft of 



this play is neither marked in the folio nor quarto editions* 



O F T H E S H R E W. 371 

S C E N E 11. 

Before HorUnJid's houfe in Padua. 

Enter Petruchio and Grumio. \ 

Pet. Verona,' for a while I take my leaver 
To fee my friends in Padua ; but of all 
Nly bcft beloved and approved friend, 
Horcenfio ; and, I trow, this is his houfe ; 
Here, firrah, Grumio ; knock, I fay, 

Gru. Knock, fir ? whom fhould 1 knock ? is thefc 
any man, has rebus'd your worfliip ? 

Pet. Villain, I fay, knock me here foundly. 

Gru. Knock you here, fir ? why, fir, what am I, 

fir. 
That I fhould knock you here, fir ? 

Pet. Villain, I fay, knock me at this gate. 
And rap me well ; or I'll knock your knave's pate. 

Gru. My mafter is grown quarrelfome : I ftiouW 
knock you firftj 
And then I know after, who comes by the worft. 

Pet. Will it not be ? 
Faith, firrah, an you'll not knock. Til ring it 5 
ril try how you can Sol^ Fa, and fing it. 

[He wrings him by the ears. 

Gru. Help, mafl:ersj help ! my mafter is mad. 

Pet. Now knock, when I bid you: Sirrah ! Villain! 

Enter Hortenjio. 

Hor. How now ? what^s the matter ? My old 
friend Grunriio ! and my good friend Petruchio! hov/ 
do you all at Verona ? 

Pet. Signior Hortenfio, come you to part the fray ? 
Con tut to tlCore, ten trovato, may I fay. 

Shakefpeart feems to have meant the firft a6l to conclude here, 
ivhcre the fpe^ches of the Tinker, &c. were introduced ; though 
they are now thrown to the end of the firfl a6t, as it fladds ac« 
cording to the modern and arbitrary regaUuion. Stbiveics. 

B b 2 Hor^, 



372 THETAMING 

Hor. Alia nofira Cafa ben vinuio^ 
Molto honorato Signer niio Petrucbio. 
Rife, Grumio rife -, wc will compound tKis quarreL 

• Gru, Nay, \h no matter, what he, 'leges • in Latin, 
If this be not a lawful caufe for me to leave his fer- 
vice, — Look you, fir ; he bid me knock him, and rap 
him foundly, fir. Well, was it fit for a fervant to 
ufe his mafter fo \ being, perhaps, (for aught I kt) 
two and thirty, a pip out ? 

Whom, would to God, I had well knock'd at firft 
Then had not Grumio come by the i;rorft. 

Pet. A fenfelefs villain ! — Good Hortenfio, 
I bid the rafcal knock upon your gate. 
And could not get him for my heart to do it. 

Cm. Knock at the gape ? O heavens ! (J>ake yoa 
not thcfe words plain ? Sirrah^ knock me bete^ ritp me 
betCy knock me iveli, and knock me foundly : and coihc 
you now with — knocking at the gate ? 

Pet. Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advifeyoik 

Hot. Petruchio, patience •, I am Gnimio's pledge. 
Why, this is a heavy chance *twixt him and you; 
Your ancient, trufty, pleafant fervant Grumio. 
And tell me now, fweet friend, what happy gale 
Blows you to Padua here, from old Verona? 

Pet. Such wind as fcatiers young men through the 
world. 
To feck their fortunes farther than at home, 

* Where fmall experience grows. But, in a few, 

Sighior 

^ * : ^^^^ ^t 'leges in Latifi.] i. c. I fuppofc, what be 41- 

leges in Latin. Petruchio has been juft fpcaking Italian to Hor- 
tenfio, which Grumio mifhkes for the other language, STXirBNi. 
5 When fmall expifienct grmts hit in u raw. J THi tacSt^ 
fhould be read thus : 

tVhere /mat! experience gr^^ws luf in a M E w, 
1. e. a confinement at home. And the meanii^ is, that no im- 
provement is to be cxpeacdof thofc who aever look ontof dooil. 

WARBtflLTOV. 

Wky 



O F T H E S H R E W. 373 

Signior Hortcnfio, thus it ftaod$ with me. 
Antonio, my father, is deceas'd ; 
And I have thruft myfelf into this maze, 
JHapply to wive, and thrive, as bcft I may: 
Cxo^wns in my purfe I have, and goods at home, 
^d fo am come abroad to fee the world. 

Hor. Petruchio, Ihall I then con>e roundly to thee^ 
And wilh thee to a flirewd iU-favQur*d wife ? 
Thou'dft thank me but a little for my counfel: 
And yet. Til promifc thee, flie fliaJl be rich, 
And very rich : — but thouVt 100 much my friend, 
And rU not wifli thee to her. 

Pu. Sijgnior Hortenfio, *twixt fuch friends as us 
Few words fuifice : and, therefore if you know 
One rich enough to be Pctruchio's wife, 
(As wealth is burthen of my wooing dance ^) 
Be ihe as foul ^ was Florcntius* love, ^ 
As old as Sibyl, and as curft and flirewd 
As Socrates' Xantippc, or a worfe, • 
She moves me pot, or not removes, at Icaft, 
f Aflfcdion's edge in me. Were (he as rough 

As 

Why this fhould fcem nonfcnfc, I caxinot perceive. Jn a feiv 
means the fame as injhort^ i^fe^v words. Johnson. 

• Ai ivtaltb is buribin of my ucoiing dance,] The burthn of a 
iawct is an exprcflion which 1 have never heard ; the burthen of 
bis naooing fang had been more proper. Johnson. 

7 Bt Jht as foul as nuai Fl^remiHs^ lon)i\ This I fu^jpoiq relates 
to a circumdance in fome Italian novel, and fhould be read Flo- 
rcntio*s. Warburton. 

• 4ffe£iion*s tDG^ f» ME.] This man 1$ a ftrange talker. He 
jiells you he wants money only. And, as to afft^hn^ he thinks 
(b little of the matter, that give him but a rich miftrefs, and he 
will take her though incrufted all over with the word bad quali- 
ties of age, uglinefs, and ill-manners. Yet after ihis, he talks of 
ajfeSion^s edge being fo ftrong in him that nothing can abate it. 
Some of the old copies indeed, iniread of me read nme : this will 
dired us to the true reading, which I am perfuadedis this, 

AffeQitn sieg'd in coin, 
i. p, placed, fcatcd, fixed. This makes him fpcak to the pur- 

B b 3 pofe, 



374 T H E T AM I N G 

As arc the fwcUing Adriatick feas, 
I come to wive it wealthily in Padua: 
If wealthily, then happily, in Padua. 

Cru Nay, look you, fir, he tells you flatly wha| 
his mind is: Why, give him gold enough, and many 
him to a puppet, or an aglet- baby ; ^ or an old trot 
with ne'er a tooth in her head, though flic have ^ 
many difeafes as two and fifty horfcs : why, nothing 
comes amifs, fo money comes wi:hal. 

Hot. Petrgchio, fince we have ftept thus far in, 
I will continue that I broachM in jeft. 
I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife 
With wealth enough, and young, and beauteous j 
Brought up, as beft becomes a gentlewoman. 
JHer only fault, (and that is fault enough) 
Is, that flic is intolerably curft : 
And flirewd, and froward -, fo beyond all mcafurc, 
That, were my ftate far worfer than it is, 
I would not wed her for a mine of gold. 

Pet. Hortenfio, peace'; thou know'fl: not 
effed : 

Tell me her father's name, and Vis enough ; 
For I will board her, tho* (he chide as loud 
As thunder, when the clouds in autumn crackt 

Hor. Her father is Baptifta Minola, 
An affable and courteous gentleman : 

pofe, 'that his affeSlkn is all love of money. The eipreflion top . 
IS proper, as the metaphor is intire — to remove affeQiom Ju£i in 
com. Warbvrton. 

Surely the fenfe of the prefent reading is too obvious to bemif- 
fei or midaken. Petruchio fays, that, // a girl bat mwty tmagb^ 
po had qualities off^ind cr body w/// remove affcftion's t)^^ ; i. c. 
|ijnder him from liking her. Johnson. 
^ aglet,] the tag of a point. Pope. 
So in the Spanifh Tragedy, 1 605 : 

** And all thofe ftars that gaze upon her face, 
*• Arc aglets on her flcevepins and her train." 

Stievsns. 



O F T H E S H R E W, 375 

Her name is Catharina Minola, 

RenownM in Padua for her fcolding tongue. 

Pet. I know her father, tho' I know not her; 
And he knew my deceafed father well. 
I will not fleep, Hortcnfio, *till I fee her ; 
And therefore let me be thus bold with you. 
To give you over at this firft encounter, 
Unlefs you will accompany me thither. 

Gru. I pray you, fir, let him go while the humour 
lafts. O' my word, an* (he knew him as well as I 
do, ihe would think fcolding would do little good up- 
on him. She may, perhaps call him half a fcorc 
knaves, or fo: why, that's nothing ; ' an* he begin 
once, he'll rail — In his rope-tricks (I'Jl tell you what, 
fir) an* ftie ftand him but a little, he will throw a fi- 
gure in her face, and fo disfigure her with it, * that 
flic fliall have no more eyes to fee withal than a cat. 
You know him not, fir. 

Hor. Tarry, Petruchio, I mull go with thee ; 
For in Baptifta's houfe my treafure is: 
He hath the jewel of my life in hold. 
His youngeft daughter, beautiful Bianca; 

' ««' be begin once^ heUl rail — In bis r:pe-trich,^ This is obfcurc. 
Sir Thomas Hanmcr reads, hcUl t ail in bis rhetorick ; /*.'/ letlyou^ 
&c. Rhetorick agrees very well with figure in the fucceeding 
part of the fpeech, yet I am inclined to believe that rope-tricks is 
the true word. Jo«nson. 

In Romeo and Juliet^ Shakefpcare ufes ropery for rogwry^ and 
therefore certainly wrote r<fetricks* Steevens. 

* tbat Jhe Jball ba*ve no more eyes to fie *witbal tban a catJ\ 

The humour of tnis pafTagel do not underiland. 1 his animal is 
remarkable for the keenncfs of its fight. Probably the poet meant 

to have faid a cat in a bottle. Of this diverfiun Ice an account 

ID Much Ado, &c. Steevens. 

It may mean, that he (hall fwell up her eyes with blows, till 
(he (hall feem to peep with a contracted pupil like a cat in the 

light. J OHM SON, 

B b 4 And 



37« T H E T A M I N G 

An4 her with-holds he from me, and other more 
Suitors to her, and rivals in my love: 
Suppofing it a thing impoifible, 
(For thofe defefts I have before rehears'd) 
That ever Catharina will be woo'd. 
Therefore this order h^th Baptifta taVn ;— =• 
That none fhall have accefs unto Bianca, 
'Till Catharine the curft have got a huftand, 

Gru. Catharine the curft ! 
A title for a maid, of all tjtles the worft ! 

Her. Now (hall my friend Petrachio do me gracei 
And offer me, difguisM in fober robes, 
To old Baptifta as a fqhool-mafter, 
Well feen in mufick, to inftrudt Bianca : 
That fo I may by this device, at leaft, 
Jlave leave and leifure to make love to herj 
And, unfufpefted, court her by herfelf. 

Enter Gretnio and Luantic iifguu^L 
Gru. Here's no knavery ! See ; to beguile the oU 

folks, how the young folks lay th^ir heads together! 

Mafter, look about you : who goe« there ? ha ! 
Hor. Peace, Grumio; 'tis the rival of my love. 

Petruchio, ftand by a while. 

Gru. A proper ftripling, and an amorous !— ^ 
Gre. O, very well •, I have pcrus'd the note. 

Hark you, fir, I'Jl hare them very fairly bound; 

All books or love; fee that, at any hand; 

And fee, you read no other leftures to her : 

You undcrftand me : — Over and befidc 

JBignior Baptifta's liberality, 

* Md her <witb'boUsy &c.] It ftood thui : 

JnJ her ivith- holds fft from me. 

Other morg fuitors to ber^ ard ri'vaU in my lovff Set. 
The regulation which I have givci) Jo the text, was liidUted IP 
[pe}}y the ingenious Dr. Thirlby. Theobald. 

9 r'l 



OF THE SHREW. ^77 

ril mend it with a largefs. Take your papers too. 
And let me have them very well perfum'd : 
For (he is fwectcr than perfume itfclf. 
To whom they go. What will you read to her ? 

Luc. Whatever I read to her, 1*11 plead for you> 
As for my patron^ (ftand you fo aflur'd) 
As firmly as yourfclf were ftill in place : 
Yea, and, perhaps, with more fuccefsfql words 
Than you, unlcfs you were a fcholar, fir. 

Cre. Oh this learning ! what a thing it is ! 

Gru. O this woodcock ! what an af« it is ! 

Pet. Peace, firrah. 

Hot, Grumio, mum ! God fave you, fignior Gre^ 
mio! 

Cre. And you are well met, (ignior Hortenjio* 
Trow you 
Whither I am going ?-^To Bapcifta Minola. 
I promised to enquire carefully 
About a fchool-mafter for the fair Biaoca i" 
And, by good fortune, I have lighted well 
On this young man ; for learning and behaviour 
Fit for her turn ; well read in poetry. 
And other books, — good ones, I warrant you* 

Hor. *Tis well : and I have met a gentleman. 
Hath promisM me to help me to another, - 
A fine mufician to inftru<^ our miftrefs 5 
So (hall I no whit be behind in duty 
To fair Bianca, fo belov*d of me. 

Cre. Belov'd of mc,— -and that my deeds (hall 
prove. 

Cru. And that his bags (hall prove. 

Hor. Gremio, Ms now no time to vent our love: 
Liften to me ; and, if you fpeak me fair, 
ril tell you news indifferent good for either. 
Here is a gentleman, whom by chance I met. 
Upon agreenjent from us to his liking, 
WiU undertake to woo cur(|: Catharine ; ^ 

Yea, 



378 T H E T A M I N S 

Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry pleafe. 

Gre. So faid, fo done, is well : — 
Hortenfio, have you told him all her faults? 

Pet. I know, (he is an irkfome brawling fcold; 
If that be all, matters, I hear no harm. 

Gre. No, fay*ft me fo, friend ? what countryman? 

Pet» Born in Verona, old Antonio's fon : 
My father's dead, my fortune lives for me ; 
And 1 do hope good days and long to fee. 

Gre. Oh, fir, fuch a life with fuch a wife were 
ftrange : 
But, if you have a ftomach, to't, o'God's namcj 
You fhall have me aflifting you in all. 
But will you woo this wild cat? 

Pet. Will I live? 

Gru. Will he woo her ? ay, or Til hang her. 

Pet. Why came I hither, but to that intent ? 
Think you a little din can daunt mine ears ? 
Have I not in my time heard lions roar ? 
Have 1 not heard the fea, puff 'd up with winds. 
Rage like an angry boar, chafed with fweat ? 
Have I not heard great ordinance in the field ? 
And heaven's artillery thunder in the flcies? 
Have 1 not in a pitched battle heard 
Loud 'larums, neighing fteeds, and* trumpet's clangr 
And do ye tell me of a woman's tongue, 

♦ an J trumpets clang ?'\ Probably the word cfang is here 

vfed adjediv^Iy, as in the Paradife Loft. b. xi. v. 829, and noias 
a verb. 

an IJIa- a fait an^! bart^ 
The kauni cf Jtcih^ and cres, ani/ /a-mcivj chn^. 

Warton. 
I believe Mr. Warton is miflakcn. Clafrg as a fobrtmtive, is 
ofed in The Noble Gentleman of Beaumont and Fletcher : 

/ hear the clang of trumpets in this b-u/t. 
The trumpet*s clang is certainly the clang of trwrpets^ and not an 
epithet beftowed on that inllrument. 6t£ evens. 

That 



O F T H E S H R E W. ^79 

That gives not half fo great a blow to the car ^ 
As will a chefnut in a farmer*s fire ? 
Tufli, tufh ! fear boys * with bugs. 

Gru. For he fears none. 

Gre. Hortenfio, hark! 
This gentleman is happily arrived. 
My mind prefumes, for his own good, and our?. 

Hot. I promised, we would be contributors; 
And bear his charge of wooing, whatfoe*cr. 

Gre. And fo wo will •, provided that he win hei^ 

Gru. I would I were as fure of a good dinner. 

To I hem Tranio bravely appareWdy and Biondellc. 

Tra, Gentlemen, God fave you ! if I may be bold. 
Tell me, I befeech you, which is the readied way 
To the houfe of fignior Baptida Minola ? 

Bion. He that has the two fair daughters ? ^ Is't he 
you mean ? 

Tra, Even he, Biondello. 

Gre. Hark you, fir •, you mean not her to 

Tra. Perhaps him^ and her, fir : What have you 
to do? 

Pet. Not her that chides, fir, at any hand, I pray. 

Tra. I love no chiders, fir : Biondello, let's away. 

Luc. Well begun, Tranio. 

Hor. Sir, a word ere you go : — 

5 That gives net halffo gnat a blow /^ he ARy] This aokward 
phrafe could never come from Shakefpeare. He wrote, withoat 
queflion, 

-fo gnaia blow to th*ear. War burton. 

• nvitb bugs.] i. e. with hug-btars. 

So in Cymbeliney 

art becomt 
The mortal bugs o^th^ fitld. Stsbvsns. 

^ He that has the t^wofair daughters, &c.] This fpeech ihould 

father be given to Gremio ; to whom, with the others, Tranio hat 

fuidreiTed himfrlf. The following paiTages might be written thus, 

Tra. Even he. Biondello! 

Gre. Hark you^ fir ; you mean wt her t90, T. T. 

Arc 



,80 THE-TAMING 

Are yev % (mtov to the msid you talk of, yea of oo? 

Tra. An if I be, fir, is it any offence ? 

Qre. No ; if wicbouc more WQrcJs you will get you 
hence. 

Tra. Why, fir, I pray, arc nat the Hreets as free 
For me, as for you ? 

Qrf. But fo is not ihe. 

Tra. For what reafqn, I bcfcech you ? 

Gre. For this rcafon, if you'll koow,^^--^ 
Thf^t flie's the choice love of fignior Greroio. 

HfT. That (he*s th^ chofen offignior Horrcnfio. 

^ra. Softly, my matters ! if you be gentlemco, 
Do tnt this right •, bear me with patience. 
Baptitt^ is a noble gentleman. 
To whom my father k PQtall unknown ^ 
And, were his daughter fairer than (he is. 
She may fiH>re fuitors h^v^, 3Jid me for one* 
Fair Leda's daughter had a thoufand wooers ; 
Then well one more may fair Bianca have ; 
And fo ihe fiiaU. JLucjcntio (hall make one, 
Tho* Paris catac, in hope to fpeed alone. 

Gn. What, this gentleman will Qux-taJk us all! 

Luc. Sir, give bini head; I know, he'll prove a 
jade. 

Pet. Hortenfio, to what end axe all thefc words ? 

Hor. Sir, let me be fo bold as to ^fk you. 
Did you yet ever fee Baptifta's daughter ? 

fra. No, fu* ; but hear I do, that lie hath two : 
The one as famous for a fcoldtng tongue, 
As the other is for beauteous modefty. 

Pei. Sir, fir, the firft's for ipe •, let her go by. 

Gre. Yea, leave that labour to great HcrculcSi 
And let it be more than Alcides' twelve. 

Pel. Sir, underftand you this of me, infooth :— 
The youngeft daughter, whom you hearken for, 
Her father keeps from all accefs qf fuitors, 
And will not promife her to any man, 
Uncil the eldeft fiftcr &£& to wed : 

The 



O F T H E S H R E W. j8i 

The younger then is free, and not before, 

Tra. If it be fo, fir, that you are the man 
Muft (lead us all, and me amongfl: the refl: ; 
And if you break the ice, and do this feat,— • 
Atchieve the elder, fct the younger free 
For our accefs, — whofe hap fliaU be to have her. 
Will not fo gracelcfs be, to Be ingrate. 

Hor. Sir, you fay well, and well you do conceive : 
And fince you do profefs to be a fuitor. 
You muft, as We do, gratify this gentleman. 
To whom we all reft generally beholden. 

Tra. Sir, I fliall not be flack : in fign whereof' 
Pleafe yt, we may contrive this afternoon, » 
And quaff caroufes to dur miftrefs* health ^ 
And do as adverfaries do in law. 
Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends. 

Gru. Bion. O cxcclktit motion ! Fellows, let's be 
gone. 

Hot. The motion^s good indeed, and be it fo, 
Petruchb, I (hall be your ben venuto, [Exeunt. 

[The Pre/enters^ aicve, fpsak bert. 

I Man. Mj lord, y^u nod -, you do not mind the play. 

Sly. Tea, by St. jlnn^ do I. A good matter^ furely^ 
— comes there any more of it ? 

Lady, y^y Lord, Ui$ but begun. 

Sly. *Tis a very excellent piece of 'work, madam lady. 
Would J *twere done!-^ 

• Pira/eji, «m# mtty contriye this a/ier/tcoH,] Mr. Theobald afts 
nvhat itey ivtre to ccntrii/ef and then fays, a/oolijb corrupthn prf* 
ffffet the pUct, and fo alters it to con'vinje ; in which he is followed, 
as he pretty conftantly is. when wrong, by the Oxford editor. 
Bat the common reading is right, and die critic was only igno^ 
Mnt of tlie ineatting of it. Contrive does not fignify here to pr^ta 
but to Jp99^t and m/ear vut. As in this paflage of Spenfer, 
Tbmages Jwtbtts mortal men contrive. 

Fairy Qneen. b. xi. ch. 9. 

Warburtok. 
Tbt word is ifed in the fame (^nfe 0(/p$Hiling or wiaringmt in t)it 
^afaRe of Pleafure. Johnson. 

ACT 



38« T H E T A M I N O 



ACT ir. SCENE L 

BapHJld's houfe in Padua. 
Enter Catbarina and Bianca. 

B I A N c A. 

GOOD fifter, wrong me not, nor wrong your- 
felf. 
To make a bond-maid and a flaveof me; 
That I difdain : ' but for thcfc other gawds. 
Unbind my hands. Til pull them ofFmyfclf 5 
Yea, all my raiment, to my petticoat ; 
Or, what you will command me, will I do. 
So well I know my duty to my elders. 

Cafb. Of all thy luitors here, I charge thee, tell 
Whom thou lov'ft beft : fee, thou diffcmblc not. 

Bian. Believe me, fifter, of all the men alive 
.1 never yet beheld that fpccial face. 
Which I could fancy more than any other. ' 

Caib. Minion, thou lieft : Is't not Hortenfio ? 

Bian, If you affcd him, fitter, here I fwear, 
rU plead for you myfelf, but you fhall have him. 

Caib. Oh, then, belike, you fancy riches more 5 
You will have Gremio, to keep you fair. * 

Bian. Is it for him you do envy me fo ? 
Nay, then you jeft; and now, I well perceive. 
You have but jefted with me all this while : 
I pr*ythee, fifter Kate, untie my hands. 

* — hut for ihfe other goods,] This is fo trifling and uncx- 
prefUve a word, that, I ana fatisfied our author wrote>A«t^i, (i. c. 
toys, trifling ornaments ;) a term that he frequently ufes and 
fcems fond of. Theobald. 

» to keep you fair,] I wifh to read, To hep jou fine. Bot 

either word may ferve. Johnson. 

Catb. 



O F T H E S H R E W. 383 

Catb. If that be jcft, then all the reft was fo. 

[Strikes her. 
Enter Baptijia. 

Bap, Why, how now, dame ! whence grows this 

inlblence ? 

Bianca, (land afide •, poor girl ! (he weeps :-*- 
Go ply thy needle ; meddle not with her. — 
For Ihame, thou hilding ^ of a devilifh fpirit. 
Why doft thou wrong her, that did ne'er wrong 

thee ? 
When did fhe crofs thee with a bitter word ? 

Catb. Her filence flouts me, and Til be revenged. 

[F//Vj after Bianco. 

Bap. What, in my fight ?— Bianca, get thee in. 

[Exit Bianca. 

Catb. Will you not fufi^er me ? Nay, now I fee. 
She is your treafure, (he mud have'a hufband ; 
1 muft dance bare-foot on her wedding-day. 
And, for your love to her, lead apes in. hell. 
Talk not to me, 1 will go fit and weep, 
'Till I can find occafion of revenge. ;' ; [E.xii Catb. 

Bap. Was ever gentleman thus g'riey*d as I ? 
But who comes here ? 

Enter Gremio, Luccntio in the habit of d mean man ; Pe- 
tfucbio ivitb Hjrtenfio^ like a mufician j Cranio and 
Biondello bearing a lute and books. 

Gre. Good-morrow, neighbour Baptifta. 

Bap. Good-morrow, neighbour Gremio : God favc 
you, gentlemen ! 

P^/. And you, good fir ! pray, have not you a 
daughter 
Caird Catharina, fair and virtuous ? 

'hilding ] The word bilding or hininlingy is a 



kwti njoretcb ; it is applied to Catharine for the coarfcncfs of her 
behaviour. Johnson. 

' Bap. 



3«4 T H E T A M 1 N G 

Ba^. I iiave a daughter, fir, call'd Cathiriiisu 
Gr^. You are too blunt ; go to it orderly. 
Pet. You wrong me, (iguior Gremio 5 give mt 
leave. 
I am a gentleman of Verona, fir. 
That, — hearing of her beauty, and her wit, 
Her affability and balhful modefty. 
Her wondrous qualities, and mild behaviour,'^^ 
Am bold to fliew myfelf a forward guefl: 
Within your houfe, to make (Yiinecye the wicnefi 
Of that report, which I fo oft have heard. 
And, for an cnttancc to my entertainment, 

[Prefenting Herttf^i. 
I do prcfent you with a man of mine. 
Cunning in mufick, and the mathematicks, 
To inftruft her fully in thofe fcienccs, 
Whereof, I know, ftie is not ignorant : 
Accept of him, or elfe you do me wrong % 
His name is Licio, born in Mantua. 
Bap. You're welcome, fir ; and he for your good 
fake. 
But for my daughter Catharine, this I know. 
She is not for your turn, the more my grief. 

Pet. I fee, you do not mean to part with her •, 
Or elfe you like not of my company. 

Bap. Miftake me not, I fpeak but as I find. 
Whence are you, fir ? what may I call your name? 

Pet. Petruchio is my name; Antonio's fon, 
A man well known throughout all Italy. 
Bap. I know him well : you are welcome for his 

fake. 
Gre. Saving your tale, Petiuchio, I pray, let 
Us, that are poor petitioners, fpeak too. 
Baccarc ! you are marvellous forward. ♦ 

Pet, 

♦ ^Baccare, you are mar^lous firward.'] Wc nvil retdy 

Baccalara by which the lulians meaoy tbott arroganl^ prefiiaip- 

tunm 



O F T H E S rt t E W. i^ 

Pit. Oh, pardon mc^ figUior Gtemioi I would fain 
be doing. 

Gre. ^ 1 doubt it not, fir, but you will curfc yout* 

wooing ^ 

Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, 1 ans fure of 
iti To exprefs the like kindncfs myfelf, that have 
been more kindly beholden to yojti than any,' free 
leave give to this young fcholar, that hath been long 
ludying at Rheims, [Prefenting Lucentio^'] as cun- 
ling in Greek, Latin, and other languages^ as th^ 
)ther in mufick and mathematicks : his name is Cam« 
3io ; prayj accept bis fervice. 

Bap. A thoufand thanks, fignior Gremio : wel- 
:ome, good Cambio. fiut, gentle fir, methinks^ you 
valk like a ftranger ; \To Cranio.} may I be fo bold 
o know the caufeof your coming ? 

Tra. Pardon me^ fir, the boldnefs is mine own i 
rhatj being a ftranger in this city here, 
)o make myfelf a fuitor to your daughterj 
Jnto Bianca, fair and virtuous : 
Jor is your firm rcfolvc unknown to me^ 

lOQs mas ! the word is ufed fcomfuily upon any one that would 
Fame a port oiF grandeur. Warburton. 
The word is neither wrone nor Italian : it was an old prover.- 
al one, ufed by John mywood ; who hath made, what he 
cafes CO call, Epigram$ Upon it. Take two of thenriy fuch aj 
cy are : 

*' BacUre^ quoth Mortimer to his fow, 
*• Went that fow haeke at that bidding, trow you V* 
*• Bockare^ quoth Mortimer to his fow : fe 
** Mortimer's fow fpeakcth as good Latin as he." 
Hbwel takes this from Heywood, in his Old Sawes and Adages: 
d Philpot introduces it into the proverbs colleAed by Camden. 

Farmer. 
* I dotthi it fiott ftft hut you 'will curft your nuBoing neighbours, 
bts is a gift] Tnis nonfenfe may be reftified by only pointing 
thus, / a^ubt it not ^ fir ^ hut you will curfe your ivooimg, Ni'gh" 
ir, this is a gift, &c. add/efllng himfelf to Baptifta. 

WARBtJRTON. 

Vol.. III. C c in 



386 THE TAMING 

In the preferment of the eldeft fitter. 

This liberty is all that I requeft ; 

That, upon knowledge of my parentage, 

I may have welcome *mongft the reft that woo. 

And free accefs and favour as the reft. 

And, toward the education of your daughters, 

I here beftow a fimplc inftrument. 

And this fmall packet of Greek and Latin books: 

If you accept them, then their worth is great. 

[Tbey greet privately. 

Bap. Luccntio is your name ? of whence I pray? 

Tra. Of Pifa, fir ; fon to Vincentio. 

Bap. A mighty man of Pifa-, by report 
I know him well : you are very welcome, fir. 
Take you the lute, and you the fet of books, 

[To Hortenfio and Lucenik 
You (hall go fee your pupils prefcntly. 
Holla, within! 

Enier a Servant. 
Sirrah, lead 
Thcfc gentlemen to my daughters j and tell thcra 

both, 
Thefe are their tutors ; bid them ufe them well. 

[ Exit Serv. with Hortenfio and Lkcentii. 
We will go walk a little in the orchard. 
And then to dinner : you are pafiing welcome ^ 
And fo, I pray you all, to think yourfclves. 

Pet, Signior Baptifta, my bufinefs afketh haftc. 
And every day I cannot come to woo. 
You knew my father well ^ and in him, me. 
Left folely heir to all his lands and goods. 
Which I have bettered, rather than decreased: 
Then tell me, if 1 get your daughter's love. 
What dowry fliall I have with her to wife ? 

Bap. After my death, the one half of my lands> 
And, in poffcfiion, twenty thouiand crowns. 

Pet. And, for that dowry. Til affure her of 
Her widowhood, — be it that Ihe fur vivc me,— 

lo 



O F T H E S H R E W. 3?; 

lo all my lands and leafes whatfoever : 

Let fpecialtics be therefore drawn between us, 

That covenants may be kept on either hand. 

Bap. Ay, when the fpecial thing is well obtained. 
That is, her love ; for that is all in all. 

Pet. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father, 
I am as peremptory as fhe proud-minded : 
And where two raging fires meet together. 
They do confume the thing that feeds their fury : 
Tho* little fire grows great with little wind. 
Yet extream guits will blow out fire and all : 
So I to her, and To (he yields to me ; 
For I am rough, and woo not like a babe. 

Bap. Well may'ft thou woo, and happy be thy 
fpeed ! 
But be thou arm'd for fome unhappy words. 

Pet. Ay, to the proof, as mountains arc for winds, 
That Ihake not, tho' they blow perpetually. 

Re-enter Hortenjto^ with his head brole. 

Bap. How now, my friend ? why doft thou look 

fopale? 
Hor. For fear, I promife you, if I look pale. 
Bap. What, will my daughter prove a good mu^ 

fician ? 
Hor. I think, (he'll fooner prove a foldier j 
Iron may hold with her, but never lutes. 
Bap. Why, then thou canft not break her to the 

lute ? 
Hor. Why, no ; for (he hath broke the lute to me, 
I did but tell her (he miftook her frets. 
And bow*d her hand to teach her fingering \ 
When, with a moft impatient devilifli fpirit, 
/r^/j, call yen thefe ? quoth (lie: V II fume with them ; 
And, with that word, (he ftruck me on the head. 
And through the inftrument my pate made way •, 
And there 1 flood amazed for a while, 

C c 2 As 



3t8 T H E T A M I N G 

As on a pillory, looking through the lute : 
While (he did call me, rafcal, fidler. 
And twangling Jack ; vrith twenty fuch vile termS) 
As Ihc had ftudied to mifufe mc fo. 

Pet, Now, by the world, it is a lufty wench; 
I love her ten times more than e'er I did : 
Oh, how I long to have fome chat with her ! 

Bap. Well, go with me, and be not fo difcomfifed : 
Proceed in prafticc with my younger daughter j 
She's ape to learn, and thankful for good turns. 
Signior Petruchio, will you go with us ; 
Or fliall I fend my daughter Kate to you ? 

Pei. I pray you do. I will attend her here, 

{Exit Bap, with Grem. Horten. and Trm/. 
And woo her with fome fpirit when (he comes. 
Say, that (he rail ; why, then Til tell her plain, 
She fings as fweetly as a nightingale : 
Say, that (he frown ; Til fay, (he looks as clear 
As morning rofes newly wa(h'd with dew : 
Say, (he be mute, and will not fpeak a word 5 
Then Til commend her volubility. 
And fay, (he uttereth piercing eloquence: 
If (he do bid me pack, Til give her thanks^ 
As tho' Ihc bid me (tay by her a week ; 
If (he deny to wed. Til crave the day 
When I fliall a(k the banns, and when be married:— 
But here flie comes ; and now, Petruchio, fpeak. 

Enter Catharine. 

Good-morrow, Kate -, for that's your n?mc, 1 hear. 
Caib. Well have you heard, but fomething hard oi 
hearing ; 
They call me Catharine, that do talk of mc. 
Pet. You lye, in faith 5 for you are call'd plain 
Kate, 
And bonny Kate, and fometimcs Kate the curft } 

But 



O F T H E S H R E W. 389 

But Kate, the prctticft Kate in Chriftendom, 
Kate of Katc-hall, my fupcr-dainty Kate, 
(For dainties are all Gates) And therefore Kate, 
Take this of me, Kate of my confolation ! — 
Hearing thy mildnefs prais'd in every town. 
Thy virtues fpoke of, and thy beauty founded, 
(Yet not fo deeply as to thee belongs) 
Myfelf am mov'd to woo thee for my wife. 

Catb. Mov*d ! — ^^ingood time : — let him that mov'd 
you hither, 
Remove you hence : I knew you at the firft 
You were a moveable. 
- Pet. Why, what's a moveable? 

Caib. Ajointftool/ 

Pet. Thou haft hit it : come, fit on me, 

Catb. Affcs are made to bear, and fo are you. 

Pet. Women are made to bear, and fo are you. 

Catb. No fuchjade, fir, as you, if me you mean. 

Pet. Atas, good Kate, 1 will not burden thee : 
For knowing thee to be but young and light, 

Catb. Too light for fuch a fwain as you to catch ; 
And yet as heavy as my weight Ihould be. 

Pet. ShoyAfi bee ? fhould^ttz.^ 

Catb. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard. 

Pet. Oh, flow-wing'd turtle ! Ihall a buzzard take 
thee ? 

Catb. Ay, for a turtle; as he takes a buzzard. ^ 

Pet. Come, come, you wafp 5 i'faith you are too 
angry. 

• J joint ftoolJ] This is a proverbial cxprciGon, 

" Cry you mercy, I took you for a joi'nM ftool." 
Sdi Raiy's CoIlefHon. Steev£ns. 

^ Ay^fot a turtle f as be takes a luzzarJ,] Pcrjiaps we may read 
better, 

Ay, for a turtle, and he takes a huzzarj, 

TM isy he may take me for t turtle^ and he (hall find me a hawk. 

Johnson. 

C c 2 Catb. 



5$o T H E T A M I N G 

Calk If I be wafpifti, bed beware my ftiflg. 

Pet. My remedy is then, to pluck it out. 

Caib, Ay, if the fool could find it, where it licB* 

Pet. Who knows not, where a wafp doth wear hil 
fting ? 
In his tail. 

Catb. In his tongue. 

Pet, Whofe tongue ? 

Catb. Yours, if you talk of tails ; and fo fareweL 

Pet, What with my tongue in your tail ? nay, come 
again. 
Good Kate, I am a gentleman. 

Catb. That Til try. [Sbeftrika Urn. 

Pet. I fwcar, FU cufF you, if you ftrike again. 

Catb. So may you lofe your arms : 
If you ftrike me, you are no gentleman ; 
And if no gentleman, why then, no arms. 

Pet. A herald, Kate ? oh, put me in thy books. 

Catb. What is your creft, a coxcomb .? 

Pet. A comblefs cock, fo Kate will be my hen. 

Catb. No cock of mine, you crow too like a craven. 

Pet. Nay, come, Kate^ come ^ you muft not look 
fo four. 

Catb. It is my fafliion, when I fee a crab. 

Pet. Why> here's no crab, and therefore look not 
four. 

Catb. There is, there is. 

Pet. Then, ftiew it me. 

Catb. Had I a glafs, I would. 

Pet. What, you mean my face ^ 

Catb. Weil aim*d of fuch a young one.— — 

Pet. Now, by St. George, I am too young for yotu 

Catb. Yet you arc withered. 

Pet. *Tis with cares. 

Catb. I care not. 

Pet. Nay, hear you, Kate : in footh, you 'fcape 
not fo. 

Catl 



O F T H E S H R E W. 391 

Catb. I chafe you, if I. tarry 5 let me go. 

Pef. No, not a whit; I find you paffing gentle. 
Twas told me, you were rough, and coy, and fullen. 
And now I find report a very liar ; 
For thou art pleafant, gamefome, paffing courteous. 
But flow in fpeech, yet fweet as fpring-time flowers, 
rhou canfl: not frown, thou canfl: not look aflcance, 
Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches willj 
Mor hafl: thou pleafure to be crofs in talk ; 
But thou with mildnefs entertain'ft thy wooers. 
With gentle conference, foft, and affable. 
Why doth the world report, that Kate doth limp ? , 
Oh flanderous world ! Kate, like a hazle-twig. 
Is flrait, and flender ; and as brown in hue 
As hazle-nuts, and fwceter than the kernels. 
0, let me fee thee walk : thoU doft not halt. 

Caib. G09 fool, and whonfi thou keep^ft command. 

Pet. Did ever Dian fo become a grove, 
As Kate this chamber with her princely gait ? 
O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate ; 
And then let Kate be chafte, and Dian fportful ! — 

Cafb. Where did you fliudy all this goodly fpcech ? 

Pei. It is extempore, from my mother- wit. 

Caib. A witty mother ! witlefs elfe her fon. 

P//. Am I not wife ? * 

Catb. Yes ; keep you warm. 

Pet. Why, fo Imean, fweet Catharine, in thy bed : 
And therefore, fetting all this chat afide. 
Thus in plain terms : — ^Your father hath confcnted, 

' jim I not wt/e f 
Tei, in f you 'warm.] 
So in Beaumont and Fletcher's Scornful Lady. 
—^9ur houfi has btin ktft warm, fir. 
I am glad to bear it ; pray God^youart wife too. 
So in our poet's Much Ado, &c. 

"^tbta if be bos wit onougb to hip bimfilf v/zim. 

Stezveni. 

C c 4 That 



]|2 thetaming 

That you fhall be tny wife-, your dowry 'gtfeed onj 
And, will you, nill you, I will niarry yoy. 
J4ow, Kate, I am a hvrfband for your turn j 
For, by this light, whereby I fee thy beauty, 
(Thy beauty, th^t doth make me like thee well) 
Thoja muft be married to no man but mt. 
For i am he, am borp to tame you, Kate ; 
And bring you from d wild Kate to a Katc"*^ 
Conformable, as other houlhold Kates j 
Here comes your father; never make denial, 
I muft and will have Catharine to my wife. 

Re-enter J^aptifia^ Gretnhi and Tranio. 

Bap. Now, fignior Pctrucbio ; how (peed yoq with 
my daughter ? 

Pit. How but well, fir ? how but Well ? 
|t were impoffible, I'lhould fpced amifs. 

Bap. Why, how now, daughter Catharine? i(i 
your dumps ? 

Catb. Call you me daughter ? now, I promtfe you, 
You have (hcw*d a tender fatherly regard, 
To wifli me wed to one half lunatick \ 
A madcap ruffian, and a fwearing Jack, 
That thinks with oath!| to face the matter out. 

P^t. Father, *cis thus -, yoorfclf and all the world^ 
That talk'd of her, have talked amifs of her; 
If Ihe be curft, it is for policy : 
For {he's not froward, but modcft as the dove; 
ihe is not hot, but temperate as the morn ; 
For patience, (he will prove a fccond Griffcl ; 
And Roman Lucrece for her chaftity : 



-a 'wiU Kate to a Kali 



Conformable^'] 

Thus the folio, and the qtiirto 163 1. • The tttbdcrn editors rcid, 
with an appearance of probability, but witJioot aothori^ or no- 
^ice, 

r— '« wild Cit to a Kate^ &c. St is vims. 



OF THE SHREW. 393 

And, to conclude, we have Agreed fo well together. 
That up6n Sunday i^ the wedding-day. 

Cath. V[\ fee thee hang*d on Sunday firft, 

Cre. Hark: Petruchio! ftac fays, Ihe'll fee thet 
hang*d firft. 

Tra. Is this your fpeeding ? nay, then, good night, 
our part ! 

Pet. Be patient, gentlemen, I chufc her for myfelf ; 
\i (he and 1 be pleas'd, what's that to you ? 
Tis bargained 'cwixt us twain, being alone. 
That Ihe Ihall ftill be curft in company. 
[ tell you, 'tis incredible to believe 
How much rtie loves me : Qh^ the kindeft Kale !— 
6he hung about my neck *, and kifs on kifs* 
She vy'd fo fall, protefting oath on oath, 
That in a twink Ihe won mc to her love. 
Oh, you are novices ! 'tis a world to fee. 
How tame, (when men and women are alone) 
A meacock wretch can make the curfteft fhrew. 
Give Ihe thy hand, Kate 5 1 will unto Venice, 
To buy apparel 'gainfl the wedding-day :— 
Provide the feaft, father, and bid the guefts ; 
I will be fure, my Catharine (hall be fine. 

Bap. I know not what to fay, but give ydur handsj 
pod fend you joy, Petruchio ! 'tis a match. 

Gre. 9>ff. Amen, fay we ; we ^ill be witnefles. 

Pet. Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu j 
I will to Venice, Sunday comes apace : 
We will have rings, and things, and fine array ; 
And kifs me, Kate, we will be married o'Sunday. 
\^Ex. PttriicbiOy and Catbarinffeveralfy. 



"kifs on kifs 



She tifdfofaft^ ] 

r know not that the word <z//> has any dondrudlion that Will foit 
fhi$ place ; we may eafily read, 

^i//i 9n tifs 

SU ply'd >/^. jf6fei*60«. 

Gre. 



354 T H E T A M I N G 

Gre. Was ever match clapt up fo fuddenly ? 

Bap. Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchaot^s 
part. 
And venture madly on a defperate mart. 

Tra. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you \ 
'Twill bring you gain, or perifli on the feas. 

Bap. The gain I feek is, quiet in the match. 

Gre. No doubt, but he hath got a quiet catch. 
But now, Baptifta, to your younger daughter; — 
Now is the day we long have looked for : 
I am your neighbour, and was fuitor firft. 

*Tra. And 1 am one, that love Bianca more 
Than words can witnefs, or your thoughts can guefs. 

Gre. Youngling ! thou canft not love fo dear asL 

Tra. Grey-beard ! thy love doth freeze. 

Gre. But thine doth fry. * 
Skipper, (land back ; 'tis age that nourifheth. 

Tra. But youth, in ladies' eyes that flouriflietb. 

Bap. Content you, gentlemen; I will compound 
this ftrife : 
'Tis deeds, muft win the prize; and he, of both, 
That can aflure my daughter greateft dower. 

Shall have Bianca's love. 

Say, fignior Gremio, what can you afTure her ? 

* But tbiui dotb fry.'] Old Gremio's notions are confirmed bf 
Shadwcll : 

Tbi fire oflwt inyovtbfui bloody 
Likt tvbat is kinJuJ in brujb'*wood. 

But fir a mcmtnt buruj^''^ 
But nvbiu en ft int$ aged 'veins ^ 
Itflo^nly burns, and ling remains , 
It glonvSf and *wifb a fullen beat^ 
Like fire in UgSf it burns, and ivarmt us long ; 
Jnd tbougb tbeflanu be not/o great, 
Ttt is tbi beat as ftrong, Jo H N SOK . 

The fame thought occurs in A Woman never Vex*d, Com. by 
Rowley, 1632: 

" My old dry wood (hall make a lufiy bonfire, when thy greea 
<< chips lie hifling in the chimney-corner." Stiitens. 



O F T H E S H R E W. 355 

Cre. Firft> as you know, my houfc within the 
city 
Is richly furniflied with plate and gold ; 
Bafons and ewers, to lave her dainty hands 5 
My hangings all of Tyrian tapeftry : 
In ivory coffers I have ftuff 'd my crowns ; 
In cyprefs chcfts my arras, counterpoints, * 
Coftly apparel, tents, and canopies. 
Fine linen, Turkey cufliions bofs'd with pearl ; 
Valance of Venice gold in needle- work ; 
Pewter and brafs, and all things that belong 
To houfe, or houfe- keeping : then, at my farm, 
I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail, 
Sixfcore fat oxen {landing in my (tails. 
And all things anfwerable to this portion, 
Myfelf am ftruck in years, I muft confefs. 
And if I die to-morrow, this is hers ; 
If, whilft I live, ftie will be only mine. 

Tra. That, onfy^ came well in Sir, lift to me j 

I am my father's heir, and only fon : 

If I may have your daughter to my wife, 

ril leave her houfes three or four as good. 

Within rich Pifa's walls, as any one 

Old (ignior Gremio has in Padua; 

Befides two thoufand ducats by the year 

Of fruitful land •, all which ihall be her jointure, — 

What, have I pinch'd you, fignior Gremio ? 

Gre. Two thoufand ducats by the year, of land I » 

My 

* -^-^-^cunfirpowUt] i. e. counterpanes. St sevens. 

^ Gre. Two thoufand ducats by tbiytar^ ofkmi! 
My land amounts not to fa much in all: 
That fit Jhall havtf an d ' " "] 
The' all the copies concur in this reading, furcly, if we examine 
the reafoning, fomething will be found wrong. Gremio is ftart- 
led at the high fettlement Tranio propofes : fays, his whole edate 
in land can't match it, yet he'll fettle fo much a year npon her, 
&c* This is playing at crofs parpofes. The change of the nt- 

gative 

6 



396 T H E T A M I N O 

My land amounts not to fo much in all : 
That Ihe (hall have •, befides an argofy 
That now is lying in Marfcilles' road. 
What, have 1 choak'd you with an argofy ? 

Tr^. Grcmio, 'tis known, my father hath fto Icfi 
Than three great argofies -, befides two galliafles 
And twelve tight gallies •, thefe I will auure her, 
And twice as much, what e*er thou ofFer*ft next. 

Gre. Nay, I have offered all, I have no more ; 
And (he can have no more than all I have j 
If you like me, (he (hall have me and mine. 

9rtf. Why, then the maid is mine from all tht 
world, 
By your firm promife ; Gremio is oot-vred. 

Bap. 1 mull confefs, your offer is the beft ; 
And let your father make her the affurancc, 
She is your own ; elfe you muft pardon me : 
If you (hould die before him, where*s her dower ? 

3>j. That's but a cavil ; he is old, I young. 

Gre. And may not young men die, as well as old? 

Bap. Well, gentlemen, 
I am thus reiblv'd : On Sunday next, yon know, 
My daughter Catharine is to be married : 
Now on the Sunday following (hall Bianca 

gative in the fecond line falves the abfardity, and fets die pa^^ 
right. Gremio and Tranio arc vyeing in their offers to cany Bi- 
anca : the latter boldly proposes to fettle land to the amoiint of t#6 
thoufand ducats per annum. My whole eftate, fays the other, in 
land, amounts but to that value ; yet (he (hall have that : I'll en- 
dow her with the nuhoU ; and coniign a rich veffel to her ufe, 
over and above. Thus all is intelligible, and he goes on to out* 
bid his rivah Warburton. 

Gremio only fays, his whole eftate in land doth not indeed 
amount to two thoufand ducats a year, but (he fliall have that, 
whatever be its value, and an argofy over and above ; which af 
gofy muft be underftood to be ofvery great value from his fab- 
joining. 

What, ha*vi I cboak^dyvu *witb an argofy f 

RlVllAL. 

be 



Q F T H E SHREW. 397 

Be bride to you» if you make this aflurance ; 

If not, to figniorGrcmio: 

And fo I take my leave, and thank you both. [Exit. 

Cre. Adieu, good neighbour. — Now I fear thcc 
not : 
Sirrah, young gamefter ; your father were a fool 
To give thee all, and, in his waining age 
Set foot under thy table : Tut ! a toy ! 
An old Italian fox is not fo kind, my boy. [Exit. 

^ra. A vengeance on your crafty withered hidd 1 f 
Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten. ♦ 

' Tis 

♦ Yit ba'vt I fac*d it 'with a card of ten :] That is, with the 
highed card, in the old fimple games of our aoce^ors. So that 
this became a prorerbial expreflion. So Skelton, 

Fyrfti fycki a quarrel, and fall out with him thtn^ 
Andfo outface him woitb a card of ten. 
And Ben Johnfon, in his Sad Shepherd, 

a Hart of (en 

/ trotw be be. 
i. c. an extraordinary good one. W a ^ b y r ton. 

Jf the word bart be right, I do not fee any ufe of the latter quo- 
tation. Johnson. 

A bart of ten IS 2in expreffion taken from the LaWs of the Foreft, 
and relates to the age of the deer. Whep a hart is paft fix years 
of age, he it generally caird a hart of t^n. 

Foreft Laws, 4to, ijpg. 
The former expreflion is very common. So in Law Tricks, &c,» 
1608. 

/ wuy he out-foe* el with a eardof ten. 

As we are on the fubjed of cards, it may not be amifs to take 
notice of a common blunder relative to their names. We call the 
king^ quetn, and hia^^ eourt-cards, whereas they were antientJy' 
denominated ccats^ or ctat-cards^ from their coats or dreiTes. So 
Ben Jonfon, in his New Inn: 

Whenjhi is phased to trick or trump mankind, 
Some may be coats, as in tbe cards. 

So Greene, in his Art of Coney- catching, 1592. 

" — call what you'will, either hart, fpade, cl^b, or diamond, 
** cQte^cardf or other." 

Again, 



398 THETAMING 

'Tis in my head to do my maftcr good :— 
I fee no rcafon, but fuppos*d Lucentio 
May get a father, calrd, fuppos'd Vinccntio ; 
And that's a wonder: fathers, commonly. 
Do get their children j but, in this cafe of wooing, 
A child fhall get a fire, if I fail not of my cunning. ' 

[Exit. 

Again, in May-Day, a Comedy, by Chapman, i6i i : 

** She had in her hand the ace of hearts and a ctai-carJ. She 

'* led the board with her ccat ; I plaid the varlet, and took op 

** her coat ; and meaning to lay my £nger on her ace of heaitfj 

** up ftarted a quite contrary card." 

Again in B. Jonfon's Staple of News, 

We call'd him a c^at-card 



«* O'thelaftordcr."- 



Again, in Maflinger's Old Law : 

** —Here's a trick of difcarded cards of us : we were rank'd 
** with eoaij as long as my old mafter liv'd." St eb yens. 
' Here the former editors add. 

Sly. Sinty nvhen will the fctl eomi again ? • 
Sim. JttOttt my lord. 

Sly. Givi us fimt morg drink here ; tvher^s tbi tafftrf 
Hetty Simy eeU/me of thifi things. 
Sim. Ido^ mjf hrd* 
Sly. Hertf Sim, I drink to tha. 
Thefe fpeeches of the prefenters, (as they are called) are nddier 
to be found in the folio or quarto. Mr. Pope, as in the former in* 
fiances, introduced them from the old fpurious play of the fiune 
name ; and therefore we may eafily account for their want of oon« 
neflion with the prefent comedy. I have degraded them as ofaai 
into the note, till their claim to a place in the text can be better 
afcertained. Stebvens. 

• When ivill the fool come again .^] The charader of the y«0/haf not 
been introduced in this drama, therefore I believe that the word^ju 
ihould be omitted, and that Sly afks, Whtn tmll th§ food tamf tb« 
fool beins: the favourite of the vulgar, or, as we now pbrafc it, of the 
wpper gallery, vvas naturally expected in every interlude, Johnson. 



ACT 



O F T H E S 3 R E W. I99 
ACT IIL SCENE !• 

Baptifta^s btmfe. 
Enter Luceruio^ Hortenfio^ and Bianca. 

LVCBNTIO. 

ST^Idler, forbear; you grow too forward, fir: 
* Have you fo foon forgot the entertainment 
er fifter Catharine welcomed you withal ? 

Hot, But, wrangling pedant, this is 
The patronefs of heavenly harmony : 
Then give me leave to have prerogative $ 
And wnen in muQck we have (pent an hour. 
Your ledure (hall have leifure for as much. 

Imc. Prepofterous afs ! that never read fo far 
To know the caufe why mufick was ordain'd! 
Was it not to refrelh the mind of man, \ 

After hia ftudies, or hisufualpain? 
Then give me leave to read philofophyt 
And, while I paufe, ferve in your harmony. 

Hot. Sirrah, I will not bear thefe braves of thine. 

Bian. Why, gentlemen, vou do me double wrong, 
Toftrive for that which rcfteth in my choice : 
I am no breeching fcholar in the fchook 1 
rU not be tied to hours, nor 'pointed times. 
But learn my leflbns as I pleale myfelf. 
And to cut oflFall ftrife, here Qt we down;— 
Take you your inftrument, play you the while % 
His ledlure will be done, ere you have tun'd. 

Hot. You'll leave his Icdture, when I am in tunef 

[Hortenfio retires. 

Lue. That will be never; tune your inftrumcnL 

AV9JI. Where left we laft? 



Luc. Here, madam : Hac ibat Simois ; bic eft Sigai 
liiMi ■ \ 

Kc fitter at Priami regia celfafenis. 
Bian. Conftruc them. 

Luc. Hac ibat^ as I told you before ; Simcis^ I am 
Luccntio, bic eft^ fon unto Vincentio of Pila, Sigda 
tellusj difguifed thus to get your love; bicfteterat^ 
and that Lucentio that comes a wooing, Priam^ is 
my man Tranio, regia^ bearing my port, celfafems^ 
that wc may beguile the oVd pantaloDn.* ' ' ' 
Hot. Madam, my inftrument'sl ih tune,* 

[Retuniiwg. 
Bian. Let's hear. Ofie! the treble jars.- ' \\ 
Luc. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.* 
Bian. Now let me fee, if I can conftrue it: Hac 
ibat SimOis^ I know you not ; bic eft Sigeia teUm; I 
truft you not ; bicfteterat Prifitm^ take heed he bear 
us not '; regia^ prefume not ; celfafenis^ defpaimot 
Hot, Madam, *tis now in tune. :• 

Z«r. All butthebafe. ' . ' 

Hor. The bafc is right ; 'tis the bafe knave that 
jars. ' • . . 

How fiery and forward our pedant is ! ' - 

Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love^^ 
Pedafcale^ I'll watch you better yet. ^ * »« ^. 

Bian. In time I may believe ; yet I miftruft.* * . 

..» 

^ Pantalobn,'] the old cully in Italian farces. Johmsoit. 

1 FedafcaUy ^] He would have faid Didafcah^ but thinkiii^ 

this too honourable, he coins the wOrd Pedc^cale, in iznitJidCMi*if 
lif from, pidant. Warburton. 

I fancy it is no coinage of Shakefpeare's. It is more probable 
that it lay in his way^ and h found it. Steevens. 

* i/Ltimt I may believe i yet I rr>iflruft.'\ This and the fcvea 
vcrfes, that fqllow, have in all the editions bcw-n flupidJy Ihufflcd 
and mifplaced to wrong fpcakcrs ; To that every wcUrd fiud wai 
glaringly out of charadcr, TkioBiao. : »• /, ... * 

iMC. 



OF THE SHREW; 4qi 

Luc. Miftruft it not ; — for, fure, -ffiacidcs 
.Was Ajax, call'd fo from his grandfather. 

Bian. I muft believe my mailer j clfc, I promife 
you, 
I ihould be arguing dill upon that doubt ;— 
But let it reft. Now, Licio, to you :— • 
Good mafters, take it not unkindly, pray. 
That I have been thus pleafant with you both. 

Her. You may go walk, and give me leave awhile | 
My leflbns make no mufick in three parts. 

Luc. Are you fo formal, fir ? wgll, I muft wait. 
And watch withal *, for, but I be deceivedy 
Our fine mufician groweth amorous. [4fid$^ 

Hor. Madam, before you touch the inftrument, * 
To learn the order of my fingering, 
I muft begin with rudiments of art ; 
To teach you gamut in a briefer fort. 
More pleafant, pithy, and effedlual. 
Than hath been taught by any of my trade : 
And there it is in writing fairly drawn, 

Bian. Why, I am paft my gamut long ago. 

flor. Yet read the gamut of Hortenfio. 

Bian^ [reading.] Gamut latn^ the ground of all af* 
cord, 

Are^ to plead Hortenfio* s paffton \ 
B mi^ Biancay take bimfor thy lord, 

C fauty that loves with all affe£iion : 
Dfolrcj one cliff , but two notes have /, 
£ la tniy Jhow pity^ or I die. 

Call you this, gamut ? tut ! I like it not : 
Old fafhions pleafc me beft -, I am not fo nice » 
To change true rules for odd inventions. 

Enter 

^ OUfaJhiom pkafe me hift : Pm not fi niet 

To cbangi true rules for new inventions.] 
This is fcnfe and the meaning of the paflfage j but the reading of 
the fecond verfc, for all that, is fophifticated. The gcnui^c qo- 
pies 2ii\ concur in reading, 
VPt.IU. Dd rt 



1^02 THE T A M I N e 

Enter a Serm^ni. 

Serv. Miftrefs, your father prays you leave your 
bQok3, 
And help to drefs your fiftcr'3 chamber up ; 
You know, to- morrow is the wedding-day. 
Bian. Farewel, fwcet matters, both; I muft be 
gone. \Exit. 

Luc. Faith, miftrcTs then I have no caufc to ftay. 

Hot. But I have caufc to pry into this pedant ; 
Mcthinks, he looks as tho' he was in love: — 
Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be fo humble. 
To caft thy wandring eyes on every ftalc,. 
Seize thee that lift : if once I find thee ranging, 
Hortenfio will be quit with thee by changing, [Ad. 

SCENE II. 

Enter Baptifta^ GremiOy Tram$y Caibarinej Lucemh, 
Bianca^ and aSfendanis. 

Bap. Signior Lucentio, this is the 'pointed day 
That Catharine and Petruchio ihould be manicd, 
And yet we hear not of oqr fon-iq-law. 
What will be faid ? what mockery will it be. 
To want the bridegroom, when the prieft attends 
To fpeak the ceremonial rites of marriage ?. 
^Vhat fays Lucentio to this ihame of ours I 

Catb. No ihame, but mine: I muft» fptfootb, 
be forc'd 
To give my hand opposed againft my heart. 

To change trtu nth fir old inventiomt* 

TfllOBALir. 

I foppoTe we may f^iely read 9dd iflventiQiifg I ksoir not wlv 
ibft propofed it. ^LTiEVSirf* 



O ^ t ti E g tt R E W. 46^ 

Ltricd a mad-brain rudclby, full of fplccn j * 
Who wooM \h hafte^ and means to wed at IdfutC; 
t tbfd yoUf Iy he was a- frantick fool. 
Hiding his bitter jefts in blunt behaviobr: 
And^ to be rioted for a rfierr*y rrtanj 
l^ell woo a tHbufand", 'point the day of marriage, 
MWke friends^ invite, yesi and proclaim thi bknns| 
Tetntver meahs to*wed, where he hath^tJoo'd. 
Now muft tllfe world pk5irir at poor Catharine, . 
Alid fay, lo ! there is mad Petrncbi(/s 'v^lfcj 
i^ a wottld pieafe- Hm come and marty her. 

Tta. Patience good Catharine, and Baptifta tdo j 
tJpOn my life, Petrlichio' means but well', 
"WhtteVcr fortune ftays him from his' Word. 
Tho* he bltinC, Pkilowhim pafling ^fe: 
Th6' he merry, yet withal he's hotteft. 

C^iti Would Catharine had never feen hid tho* ! 

[Exh vce'eptHgi 

Ptf^. Goi giri ; I cafinot blame thee novr to weep i 
Pol* iuch an injury would vtxafiirit. 
Much more a Ihrcw of thy impatient humour. 

Enter ^iondello. 

Bion. Maftfef", maftcr ; nciws, old news, * — arid fuch 
hews as you never heard of; 

Bap. Is it new and, old too ? how may that be ? 

Bian. Why, 13 it not news to hear of Pctruchio'^ 
comirig? 

Bap. U he come ? 

BioHi Why^ no^ fir. 

J9<i|^4 Whftt then ? 

" Full of /f>Utti.\ That in fn!iof\i\i±o\xT, caprice, iHAin^ 
conftancf. Johnson. 

» ■ ' ■ olJ nemot;] Thefk vAitd^ have been addtd by Comd 
of the editors, and neceffafily, for the reply of Oaptifta fttppofes 
iKffil tofaav<e been already fpolceir,-^-«/d^ Uy^hhgi — old utis, &c. 
trt expftfllons of that tiauB merely hyperbdlical, and ' k&ve b€ea 
Mrs than once ofed by Shakefpeare. SiKSYxirf^ 

D d a Bion. 



404 THE T A M IN G 

Bson. He is coming. 

Bap. When will he be here ? 

Bion. When he ftands where I am» and fees you 
there. 

Tra. But, fay, what to thine old news ? 

Bion. Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and 
an old jerkin ; a pair of old breeches thrice tum'd ; 
3 a pair of boots that have been candle-cafes; ^ one 
buckled, another lac'd ; an old rufty fword u'en out 
out of the town-armory, with a broken hilt, and 
chapelefs, with two broken points : His horfe hip'd 
with an old mothy faddle, the ftirrups of no kindred : 
befidesy pofleis'd with glanders, and like to mofe in 
the chine ; troubled with the lampafs, infe^ed with 
the fafliions, full of windgalls, fped with fpavins, 
raied with the yellows, ^ pafl cure of the fives^ ftark 
fpoiled with the daggers, begnawn with the bots ; 
fwaid in the back, and flioulder-fliotten ; near-legg'd 
before, and with a half- checked bit, and a headftall 
of fheep's leather ; which, being reftrain'd, to keep 

3 A pair of boots^'^ne hue He J, anther laceJ; an cU rufty fia$ri 
ta*en out of the to^un-armory^ nuitbahrokem hilt, and ehapthfsy mn'tk 
tnuo broken points.'] How a fword fhould have fwo broAeu. poiutSr I 
cannot tell. There i«, I thinks a tranfpoirtion eaufed by the 
feemiog relation of point to fword. 1 read» a pair 9f b9§tSt #■# 
buckled y another laced with two brokeD points ; em old rufty ^^emi 
with a broken hilt, and chapelefs . Johnson. 

♦ '^^-^that ba<ve been candle-cafes,] That"is, I fuppoie» booti 
lone left off, and after having been converted into calcs to hold the 
ends of candles, returning to their firft office. I do not know that 
I have ever met with the word candle-cafe in any other place» a- 
cept the following preface to a dramatic dialogue, 1635, entitled, 
The Cafe is Altered, How?—" I write upon caies, neither 
knife-cafes, pia<afes, nor candle-cafes.** Stbbvbns. 

' inf^atd 'with thefafifions, paft curt of the ftws.] 

Fafliions. So called in the weft of England, but by the beft writers 
on {oxntrf^farcins, ox farcy. 

Fives. So called in the weft : *vives elfcwhere, and avi^s hf 
the French ; a diftcmper in hories, little dlHering fitm tht 
Arangles. Gray. 

him 



O F T H E S H R E W. 405 

kknfrom Humbling, hath been often burft, and now 
rcpair'd with knots : one girt fix times piec*d, and a 
woman's crupper of velure, which hath two ktiers 
for her name fairly fet down in ftuds, and here and 
there pieced with packthread. 

Bap. Who comes with him ? 

Bion. Oh, fir, his lackey, for all the world capa- 
rifon'd like the horfe : with a linen (lock on one leg, 
and a kerfey boot-hofe on the other, garter'd with a 
vcd and blue lift ; ^ an old hat, and the humour of 
forty fancies prick*d in't for a feather : a monfter, a 
very monfter in apparel \ and not like a chriftian foot- 
boy, or a gentleman's lackey. 

Tra. 'Tis fome odd humour pricks him to this 
fafhion ; — 
Yet fometimes he goes but mean apparclPd. 

Bap. I am glad he is come, howfoever he cpmes. 

Bion. Why, fir, he comes nor. 

Bap. Didft thou not fay, he comes ? 

Bion. Who ? that Petruchio came ? 

^^. Ay, that Petruchio came. 

♦ Am oUhat, nWthe humour of forty fancies priced ii^t for a 
ftathtr ;] This was fome ballad or drollery of that time, which the 
poet here ridicules, by making Petruchio prick it up in his foot- 
Doy's old hat for a feather. His fpeakers are perpetually quoting 
fcraps and ilanzas of old ballads, and often very obfcurely; for,io 
well are they adapted to the occafion, that they feem of a piece 
with the reft. In Shakefpeare's time, the kingdom was over-run 
with thefe <ioggrel compoikions. And he feems to have born them 
a very particular grudge. He frequently ridicules both them and 
their makers with excellent humour. Jn Much Ado About No« 
thlag, he makes Benedift fay, Provi that ever I lofe more Hood 
^itb love than I get agadn nuitb driukiug^ prick out my eyes *witb a 
huUad-maker^s pen. As the bluntnefs of it would make the execu- 
tion of it extremely painful. And again, in Troilus and Creffi- 
da, Pandarus in his dillrefs having repeated a very ftnpid ftanza 
from an old ballad, fays, with the higheft humour. There never 
weu a truer rhime; let ui caft away nothings fw w# may live to have 
emirffatb a verfe, Wefetit^ noefeeit. WARBvaTOir. 

D d d Bion. 



4c8 THETAMINO 

Well over-reach the grey-beard, Gremio; 
The narrow -prying father, Minola, 
The quaint mufician, amor9US Licio ; 
All for my maftcr's fake, Luccntio. 

Re-enter Gremio. 

Signior Gremio ! came you from the church ? 

Gre. As willingly as e'er I came from fchooL 

Tra. And is the bride and bridegroom coming 
home ? 

Gre, A bridegroom, fay you ? 'tis a groom, in- 
deed, 
A grumbling groom, and that the girl (hall find. 

Tra. Cur&r than flie ? why, 'tis impoflible. 

Gre. Why, he*s a devil, a devil, a very fiend. 

9rtf. Why, (he's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam, 

Gre. Tut ! (he's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him. 
ril tell you, fir Lucentio ; when the pric(b 
Should afk, if Catharine fliould be his wife ? 
^, hy gogf'wounsj quoth he \ and fwore fo loud, 
That, all amaz'd, the priefl let fall the book ; 
And, as he ftoop'd again to take it up. 
This mad-brain'd bridegroom took him fuch a cuff, 
That down fell pried and book, and book and prieft: 
New take them up^ quoth he, ijarfif lift. 

Tra. What faid the wench, when he ro(c up agaun? 

Gre. Trembled and (hook ; for why, he reamp'd, 
and fwore. 
As if the vicar meant to cozen him. 
But after many ceremonies done. 
He calls for wine : ji bealtb^ quoth he ; as if 
He had been aboard carowfing to his mates 
After a ftorm; quaff 'd off the mufcadel* 

And 

• — ; — quagy off ihi mu/:aJel%\ It appears from this paflag<, 
and the following one in The Hiftory Qf the two Maids of More- 
clackcy a comed/i hy Robert Armin, 1609, that it was the caftoo 



O F T H E S H R E W: 40^ 

And threw the fops all in the fexton's face 1 
Having no other reafon, but that his beard 
Grew thin and hungerly^ and feem'dto alk 
Him fops as he was drinking. This done, he tool; 
The bride about the neck 5 and kifs*d her lips 
With fuch a clamorous fmack, that, at the parting 
AH the church did echo ; and I feeing this. 
Came thence for very fhame ; and after me, 
I know, the rout is coming : fuch a mad marriage 
Never was before, — Hark, hark, I hear the minttreli 
play. {MMfickplajs. 

Enter Petruchio^ Catharine^ Bianca^ Hmtnfio^ and 
Baptifta. 

Pet. Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your 
pains : 
I know, you think to dine with me to-day. 
And have prepared great ftore of wedding cheer; 
But fo It is, my hafte doth call me hence. 
And therefore here I mean to take my leave. 

Bap. Is't poffible, you will away to-night ? 

Pet. I muft away to-day, before night come.—- - 
Make it no wonder ! if you knew my bufinefs. 
You would entreat me rather so than ftay. 
And, honeft company, I thank you all, 

jtD drink wine immediatdy after the marriage ceremony* Armin't 
play begins thus : 

Enttr a Maid firnning flower Sf and a firving'man perfkmhg the 

do9r. 
" Maid. Strew, ftrcw. 

*' Man. The mufcadine ftays for the bride at choKb. 
*' The prieft and Hymen's ceremonies 'tend 
*' To make tbem man and wife.'' 
Agun in Decker's Satiromaftix, 1602. 
— .«• and when we arc at church, bring the w/w and cakes/' 

Stibtiki; 

That 



4fo T H E T A M I N G 

That have t)chcld mc give away myfelf 
To this moftpaiient, wect, and virtuous wife, 
Dioe mth my father, drink a health to me^ 
Fori mutt hcncc» and Crewel to you all. 
Tra. Let us intreat yo^ ftay 'till after dhmcr. 
Pet. It may not be. 
Gre. Let mc intreat you. 
. PeL It cannot be. 
CaSb^ Let mo intreat you. 

Pet. 1 am content • 

Cath. Arc you content to ftay ? 
PcL lam content you Ihail intreat me ftay & 
But yet not ftay, intreat me how you can. 
Calk, Now^ if you low me, ftay. . 
PeL Gromto, my horfes. 
Cru. Ay« lir^ they be ready; the oati have eatea 
the horfes. 

Catb. N«y, then. 
Do what thou canft, 1 will not go to-day ; 
No, nor to-morrow, nor •rill I picafe myfelf. 
The doof B open, fir, there lies yotrr way. 
You may be jogging, white ytiur boots ^re |rccn ; 
For me, Ml notbe gone, •till I pleafc myfeif : 
'Tis like, you'll prove a jolly furly groom. 
That take it on you at the firft fo roufidly. 
/W. O Kau content thees pr'ythee, be not angry. 
Caib. J will be angry ; what haft thou to do ?«-^ 
Father, be quiet ; he (hall ftay my leifure. 
Gre. Ay, marry, fir r.xiow it begins to work. 
Caib. Gentlemen, forward to the bridal xlianer :— 
I fee, a woman may be made a £o(A^ 
If flie had not VL fpirit to refift. 
Pei. They fhall go forward. Kite, at thy com- 
. mand. — 
Obey thcbride, you that attend on her : 
Co to the fcaft, revel and domineer j 

Ca- 



O F T H E S H R E W. 411 

Caroufe full meafure to her maiden-head ; 

Be mad and merry, prgo h^ng yourfclvcs : 

But for my bonny Kate, fbc muil with mc. 

Nay, look not big, nor (lamp, norftare, nor fret j 

[ will be mafterot' whaxi$ii3ineown : 

She is my goods, my chattels -, (he is my houfe. 

My houOiold-ftufF, my field, my barn. 

My horfe, my ox, my afs, my any thing ; 

And here (he (lands, touch her whoever dare. 

ril bring my adion on the proudeft he 

That (lops my way in Padua* Grumio, 

Praw forth thy weapon ; we're befet with thieves ; 

Refcue thy miftrefs, if thou be a man : — 

pear not, fweet wench, they (hall not touch thee; 

Kate ; 
ril buckler thee againft a million. 

lExit Pel. and Catb, 

Bap. Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ooet. 

Cre. Went they not quickly, I fliould die with 
laughing. 

^ra. Of all mad matches, never was the like. 

Luc. Midrefs, what's your opinion of your fider? 

Bian. That being mad herfclf, (he's madly mated. 

Gre. I warrant him, Pctruchio is Kated. 

Bap. Neighbours and friends, tho* bride and bride- 
groom want 
For to fupply the places at the table. 
You know, there wants no junkets at the feaft;— 
Lucentio, you (hall fupply the bridegroom's place •, 
And let Bianca take her filler's room. 

yV^a. Shall fweet Biaqca pradile how to bride it ? 

Bap. Sh^ (balls Lucentjo : Come, gentlemen, let's 
go. \Exiunt. 



ACT 



^u T H E T A M I N G 

A C T IV. SCENE L 

Petrucbio^s country boufe. 
Enter Grumi§. 

G R u M X 0. 

FY, fy on all tired jades, on all mad tnaften, 
and all foul ways ! Was ever man fo beaten ? 
• was ever man fo ray'd ? was ever man fo weary ? I 
am fent before, to make a fire; and they are coming 
after to warm them. Now were not I a little pot, 
and foon hot, my very lips might freeze to my teeth, 
my tongue to the roof of my mouth, my heart in my 
belly, ere I could come by a fire to thaw me : but I, 
with blowing the fire fhall warm myfelf ; for con- 
fidering the weather, a taller man than I will take 
cold : Holla, hoa, Curtis ! 

Enter Curtis. 

Curt. Who is it that calls fo coldly ? 
Gru. A piece of ice. If thou doubt it, thou may'ft 
Aide from my Ihoulder to my' heel, with no greater 

' Was €ver MMft fo ray* J?} That is, was ever man fo mark'd 
with laihes. Johnson. 

It rather means htnuray'd^ i. e. made dirty. So Spenfer fpeikio^ 
of a fountain, b. ii. cant 8. ft. 32. 

Which Jht ifitreafid with her binding hearty 
And th$ cUan njua'ois imtb purplig&re did ray» 
A^n, b. iii. cant. 8. ft. 32, 

The nvhilts the piteous lady up did rifif 

Ruffled and foully ray'd withfltby foil. Tollbt. 

an» 



OF T H E S H ft E W. 41^ 

a run but my head and my neck. A fire, good 
Curtis. 

Curf. Is my mailer and his wife coming, Grumio f 

Gru. Oh, ay, Curtis, ay : and therefore fire, fire % 
caft on no water. 

Curf. Is Ihe fo hot a fhrew, as {he*s reported ? 

Gru. She was, good Curtis, before this froft : but 
thou know'ft, ' winter tames man, woman and beaft^ 
for it hath tam'd my old mafter, and my new mif- 
trefs, and thyfelf, fellow Curtis. 

Curi. ^ Away, you three-inch'd fool! I am no' 
beaft. 

Gru. Am I but three inches ? ^ why, thy horn is 
a foot ; and fo long am I, at the leaft. But wilt thou 
make a fire, or (hall I complain on thee to our mif- 
trefs, whofe hand, ((he being now at hand) thou (hale 
foon feel to thy cold comfort, for being (low in thy 
hot office. 

Curi. I pr'ythee, good Grumio, tell me, how goea 
the world ? 

■ Gru. ^^^'wintit tames man, ivoman and heaff\ for it Jbaih 
tam*d afjr §U mafter^ and my nrwmiftrefs, and m y ftlf^ftlhnjti Cmriiu 

Cart. Away, you thne-incb^d/ooi ; I am no beaft. '\ Why had 
Gramiocaird him one ; to give his refentment any coloor. We 
muft read as, without queftion, Shakefpeare wrote^ 

a rtel thy felf, fellow Curtis* 
Why Gmmio faid that winter had tamed Curtis was for his flow- 
nefs in Hiewing Grumio to a good £re. Beiides, all the joke con- 
fiUs in the fenfe of this alteration. Warbvrton. 

* Jway^you three-inched fool \\ i. c. with a ikull three inchet 
thickf aphrafe uken from the thicker fort of planks. 

Warburtoic, 

3 Why thy horn is afoot, and Jo long am I at leaft, \ Though atj 
the copies agree in this reading, Mr. Theobald fsLys,yet he eannnt find 
nohat htrn Curtis had', therefore he alters it to my horn. But tbB 
common reading is right, and the meaning is that he had made 
Curtis a cuckold. War burton. 

6 Cm, 



414 t H E r A M I 1^ G 

Gru. A Cbld world, CiR'ris, in every office but 
thine ; and, therefore, fire : do thy duty, and- have 
thy duty ; for my mafter and miftrcfs are almoft 
frozen to death. 

Curt. There's fire ready ; and therefore, good Gru- 
mio, the news-. 

Gru. Why, * Jack boy ! ho boy ! and as much 
news as thou wilt. 

Curt* Gome, you arc fo full of conycatching : — 

Gru. Why, therefore, firts ; for I have cau^t ex-* 
treme cold. Where's the cook ? is fuppcr ready,, the 
houfe trimm'd, rufties ftrew'd, cobwebs fwept,. thc^ 
fcrving^men in their new fuftian, their white ftock- 
iflgs,. and' every officer his wddding-garmenc on ? ' bd 

* Jaci iijj9 &c.] fragiDcatof fbmc old ballad. Warb. 

* Bi tbtjaih fair wibin^ tin JilU fait vniibcui /I L C. Afrf 
tlie drinking veilHs clean, and the maid fervants drefs^l ? JBot the 
Oxford Editor alters it thus, 

jiretbi Jacks fair mtbtut^ tbi Jills fair witkinf 
What his conceit is in this, I confe(s I know not. 

WAaBURTOW. 

HanmerH meaning Teems to be this : Jr$ tbgnUtr^wb^^arw^a^'h 
ini'withmi'tbi be^e urtciivt sajf'iaajlir dr>i/s*d% mmd ibr wkmidf^ntAi 
mKi ivaiihfg tuiibiu drtfid i9of 

Ibelieve the poet oMavt to play upon the words Jack and JiPi 
which ^gMy tiAf9 drinJUwg murfmretf ^t vrtXi 2% men zui&mah^fr^ 
nfOMts. Thediftindlion mode* in the av<fti«nt coaceroMig them, 
was owing to this. The Jacks being of leather, could nbt be madcr 
to appear beautiful on the outilde, out were very apt to contraift 
fbulnefs within ; whereas> the^////, being of metal, were ezpaM 
to be kept bright externally, and were not liable to dirt on the in- 
fide like the leather. 

The quibble on the former of thefctvords I find iir tbtr AdiciitV 
Tragedy, by C. Turner, i6i i. 



— — ••« have you drunk yourfelves mad? 
•* I Sir. My lord, the Jacks abus'd me. 
•' ^Ap. I think ihcy are Jaikt indeed that hai'e abus*d Aee.'^ 

SraxvEiit. 

tbtf 



OFT HE S H R E W. 4^ 

tho Jack$r &ir wichin, the Jills fair without, cacgctt 
kid, and every thing in order ? 

Cnrh AU- ready : and therefore,, I pray, diter w^at 
aews ? 

Gru. Firfl:, know^ myf horie is tired ^ m>( mafta: 
and miftrefs fallen out. 

CurL Hovn? 

Gnu Our off their faddles' into* the dirtj, aadiiiei» 
by haogs.a tale.. 

Cw/. LetVha't, g(HxlGFiumiQ. 

Gru. Lend thine oac. 

Curt. Here. 

Gru. There. {Strika.i$m. 

Curl. This is to feel a tale, not to bear aitale. 

Gru. And therefore 'tis call'd a^fenfibkrtale : and 
this cuff* was but to knock. at your car, and beieecb 
liftning. Nowl begin :. (nprimis,. we came down a 
foul hill, my mafter riding behind my miftrefk:^^ 

Cutis . BoCh on^ one borfe ? 

Gru. What's that to thee ? 

Curt. Why, a^horfe. 

Gru. Tell thou the tale : But hadft thou not 

crofs'd me, thou.fliould'ft have hean* how her horfc 
fell,, and ihe under her horfe: thou (houM'ft. have 
heard in how miry. a places, how. (he was bemotl'd ; 
how he left her with the horfe upon her ;.how he beat 
me becaufe her horfe (tumbled; how (be waded 
through the dirt to pluck him off m©;-. ^ha^hc 
fwore-, how (he pray'd that never pray'd before ; how 
the hoifes ran away.; how her bnclie,was..bur(l;.how 
I loft) my crupper; with nuny thing;; of worthy mov 

And how Jhepray'd, that ntvtr pray* d hifort*"] 
Theft Itfies, withlittle variatioa, are fbaiid id the old copy of K. 
Lcir, publHhcd, before that of Sfagkefpearti STt#yftNfl. 

mory^ 



4i6 T H E t A M I N G 

moiy ; which now Ihall die in oblivion, and thou rt^ 
turn uncxpcricnc'd to thy grave. 

Curt.' By this reckoning he is more (hrew than Ihc. 

Gru. Ay ; and that you and the proudcft of yoo 
dU {hall find, when he comes home. But what talk I 
of this ? call forthNathaniel,Jofeph, Nicholas, Philip, 
Walter, Sugarfop, and the reft : let their heads be 
fleekly comb'd, their blue- coats brufti*d, and their 
7 garters of an indifferent knit : let them curtfy with 
their left legs ; and not prefudie to touch a hair of 
my mafter'snorfe-tail, 'till they kifs their hands. Are 
thCT all ready ? 
% Curt. They are. 

Gru. Call them forth. 

Curt. Do you hear, ho? you muft meet my mafter, 
(0 countenance my miftrefs. 

Gru. Why, (he hath a face of her own. 

Curt. Who knows not that ? 

Gru. Thou, it feemsj jhat call'ft for company to 
Countenance her. 

Curt. I call them forth to credit her. 

Etfter four or five ferving-mm. 

Gru. Why, (he comes to borrow nothing of them« 

Natb. Welcome home, Grumio. 

Phil. How now, Grumio ? 

Jof. What, Grumio! 

Mcb. Fellow Grumio ! 

Natb. How now, old lad ? 

Gru. Welcome, you •, how now, you ; what, yoa j 
fellow, you ; and thus much for greeting. Now, 
my fpruce companions, is all ready, and all things 
neat ? 

^ garurs tf tm ini'tgirtnt i»//.] What is the fcnfc of this I 
know not* unlefs it meaos, that th^ir gantri (bould be ftlUvfs ; 
iniiffmnt^ or nut dijerent, one from thp other. Johnson. 

Natb. 



F T H E S H R E W. ^if 

Natb. All things arc ready : how near is our 
mafter ? 

Gru. E'en at hand, alighted by this ; and there- 
fore be not-- cock's pafTion, fllcnce! 1 hear 

my ntiftcr. 

Enfer Petrucbto and Ka(e. 

Pet. Where be thefe knaves ? What, no man at 
the door. 
To hold my ftirrup, nor to take my horfe ? 
Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip ?- 

-//// Serv4 Here, here, fir ; here, fir. 

Pef. Heie, fir! here, fir! here, fir! here, fir! 
You ioggerheaded and unpolifti'd grooms ! 
What ? no attendance ? no regard ? no duty ? 
Where is the foolifti knave I fent before ? 

Gru. Here, fir •, as fooli(h as I was before. 

Pef. You peafantfwain! you whorcfon, malt-horfc 
drudge ! 
Did not I bid thee meet me in the park^ 
And bring along thefe rafcal knaves with thee? 

Gru. Nathaniers coat, fir, was not fully made j 
And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink*d i' the heel ; 
There was no link, to colour Peter's hat -,' 
And Walter's dagger was not come from flitathing: 
There were none fine, but Adam, Ralph, and Gre- 
gory -, 
The reft were ragged, old, and beggarly -, 
Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you. 

Pel. Go, rafcals, go, and fetch my fupper in. 

[Exeunt Servants^ 
tVbere is the Ufe tbat late I led ? [^Singing. 

• n9 link to colour Pettr*s hat,] LJni, I believe, is the 

fame with what we now call lamp-black. Joh nson. 

A Link is a torch of pitch. Greene, in his Mihil Mumchance, 

fays ••This cozenage is ufed likewife in felling olde hats 

found upon dunghills inftead of newe» blackt over with the fmoake 
•fan §Uie linh,** St s B v E N s • 

Vol. hi. E c Where 



418 THE T A MING 

Where ire thofef fit down, Kate^ 

And welcome. Soud, foud, foud, foud ! • 

ReeHter Servants with {upper. 

Why, when, I fay ? nay, good fweet Kate, be merry. 
Off with my boots, you rogues : you villains, when? 

// was the friar of orders grey^ ' [Singu 

A^ befmb walked en bis way ;— 

Out, you rogue, you pluck my foot awry. 
Take that, and mend the plucking off the other. 

[Strikes bi9. 
Be merry, Kate : Some water, here; what ho! 

Enter one with water. 

Whbrfc*s ttiy fpatiiel Troilui ? SirRkiv, get you hehcc, 
• And bid my coufin Ferdinand corrtic hither :— 
One, Kate, that you itiufl: kif^, and ht acquainted 

*ith. 
^V!\e^fc are my flippers ? Shall I hiti foriit ^a«ch? 



♦ -^ 'Soud^fdui^ 5:c.] Th4t is, y^/r/, Jkjmt. U^UXxA 

fottietihfies fiotb^ is fwea. So in Milton, /# Jing Jotibfy, b, to 
iiDg fwfeetly. Johnson. 

■ // nuas the friar of ortltrs grey,^ Dirperfed throogh Sliake- 
fpeare's plays are many little fragments of atidehc ballads, the 
entire copies of Vvhich cannot now be recovered. Mknj of tbefe 
bei ng of the moft beautiful and pathetic fimplicity» Dr. Percy has fe- 
leded fome of them, and conneded them together with a finv fop* 
piemen tal (lanzas ; a work, which at once fhcws his own poetic 
cal abilities, as well as his refped to the truly venerable remains 
o'f our mod ancient bards. St ex yens. 

3 And hid my ecu/in Ftrdinand ccme biiher,'] This coafin Ferdi- 
nand, who does not make his perfonal appearance on the fcene, 
is mentionedt I fuppofe, for no other reafon than to give Catha- 
rine a hint, that he could keep even his own tefations in t>rder, 
a{id make them obedient as his fpaniel to his commands. 

Stebvcns. 

t CofliCf 



O F t H B S H R E W. 419 
Come, Kate, and wafli, and welcome heartily : 
Yon, whorefon viliain \ wHJ yw let it fall ? 

C4/*. Patience, I pray you ; 'tvyas a faxilt uqwiljing, 

Pef. A whorefon, bcetie-headed, flap car'd knave ! 
Come, Kate, fit down ; 1 know, you have a ftpmach. 
Will you give thanks, fwcet Kate^ prelfc fhall I ? 
What's this ? mutton ? 

I 5^. Ay. 

Pet. Who brought it? 

Ser. I. 

Pet. *Tis burnt ; and (b is all the meat i 
What dogs arc tbcfe ? Where is the rafcal copk ? 
How durll you, villains, bring it fl-om the dreffer. 
And ferve it thus to me that love it not ? 
There, take it to yog, trenchers, cups and all : 

{Throws the meat^ &ff. about thtfinge^ 
You hecdlefs jolt-heads, and unmanner*d flaves ! 
What, do you grumble ? Pll be with you ftraight. 

Caiy I pray you, hulband, be not fo difquict ; 
The meat was well, if you were fo contented. 

Ptt. I tell thee Kate, 'twas burnt, and dry'd ajyay* 
And I exprefly am forbid to touch it. 
For it engenders choler, planteth anger : 
And better 'twere, that both of us did faft. 
Since, of ourfejves, ourfelves are cholcricjc. 
Than feed it with fuch over-roafted flefli. 
Be patient, to-morrow it (haH be mended, 
And, for this night, we'll faft for company.— 
Come« I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. 

Enter Servants feverally. 

Vath. Peter, didftcver fee the like ? 
Peter. He kills her in her own humour* 
Gm. Where is he? 

Eel JU-enter 



420 T H E T A M I N G ^ 

Re-enter Curtis. 

Curt. In her chamber, making a fcrmonofcon- 
tincncy to her. 
And rails, andfwcars, and rates ; that fhe, poor Ibul, 
Knows not which way to (land, to look, to ipcak -, 
And fits as one ncw-rifcn from a dream. 
Away, away ! for he is coming hither, [Extknl. 

Re-enter Petrucbio. 

Pet. Thus have I politickly begun my reign. 
And *tis my hope to end fucccfsfully : 
My faulcon now is (harp, and palling empty ; 
And, till (he (loop, flie mud not be full-gorg'd. 
For then Ihc never looks upon her lure. 
Another way I have to man my hazard, * 
To make her come, and know her kceper*s call^ 
That is, to watch her, as we watch thefe kites. 
That bait and beat, and will not be obedient. 
She eat no meat to-day, nor none (hall eat : 
Lafi: night (he (lept not, nor to-night (hall not: 
As with the meat, fome undcfcrvcd fault 
I'll find about the making of the bed ; 
And here V\\ Qing the pillow, there the bolfter. 
This way the covcrler, another way the (heets: 
Ay, and amid this hurly, I intend, 
That all is done in reverend care of her; 
And, in conclufion, (he (hall watch all night : 
And, if (he chance to nod, V\\ rail, and brawl. 
And with the clamour keep her ftill awake. 



' —tf man my haggard i\ A haggard is a mnldhmok ; 

to man a hawk is to tame her. Johnson. 

So In a comedy called The Ifle of Gulls, 1606. 

** Haggard, I'll make your proud heart Aoop to the lurt of obe- 
** dience." Stb evens. 

This 




OF THE SHREW. 



421 



This is a way to kill a wife with kindncfs ; — 

And thus Til curb her mad and head- ftrong humour. — 

He that knows better how to tame a (hrcw, 

Now let him fpeak ; 'tis charity, to fhew, [£;«/. 

SCENE II. 

Before Baptifta's houfe. 
Enter Cranio and HorUnJio. 

Tra. Is't poffible, friend Licio, that miftrefs Bianca* 
Doth fancy any other but Lucentio ? 
I tell you, fir, (he bears me fair in hand. 

Hor. Sir, to fatisfy you in what I have faid, 
Stand.by, and mark the manner of his teaching. 

[They ftand by. 

♦ LUpoffihh^ friend Licia^ &c.] This fccne, Mr Pope, upon 
what authority I can't pretend to gqefs, has in his editions made 
the Jir/i of ^t fifth aft : in doing which, he has (hewn the vtvf 
power and force of criiicifm. The confccjuencc of this judicious 
regulation is, that two unpardonable abfurdities are fixed upon 
the author, which he could not poflibly have committed. Por^ 
in the firft place, by this ihuflling the fcenes out of their true po- 
fition, we find Hortenfio, in the fourth ad, already gone from 
BaptiOa's to Petruchio's country-houfe ; and afterwards in the 
beginning of the fifth aft we find him firft forming the refolution 
of quitting Bianca ; and Tranio immediately informs us, he \% 

tone to the Taming-fchool to Petruchio. Thsre is a figure, ip- 
eed, in rhetorick, calPd, Sri^oir ^^n^ov ; but this is an abufe of 
it, which the rhetoricians wiil never adopt upon Pope's autho- 
rity. Again, by this mifplacing, the Pedant makes his fijft en- 
trance, and quits the Rage with Tranio in order to go and drefs 
himfelf like Vincentio, whom he was toperfonate: but his fe- 
cond entrance is upon the very heels of his exit ; and without 
any interval of an a£i^ or one word intervening, he comes oot 
again equipp'dlike Vincentio. If fuch a critick be tit to pnblifh 
a ftage- writer, I fhall not envy Mr. Pope's admirers, if they 
Ihould think fit to applaud his fagacity. I have replaced the fcenea 
in that order, in which I found them in the old books. 

Theobald. 



\ 



Ee 3 



Enter 



^ta THE TAMING 

Enter Bianca and Lucentio. 

Luc. Now, miftrcfs profit ydu in what yo» ft^ f 
Bian. What, maftcr, read you ? firft, rcWvt me 

that. 
Luc. I read That I profcft, the irt to love. 
Bian. And may you prove, fir, mafter of your art! 
Luc. While you, fWccttfear, prove tniftrefs of my 
heart, i^^^ ntire backward, 

Hor. Quick proceedcrs, marry ! now, tell rae» I 
pray 
You that durft fwear that yow nrriftrcfs Bianco 
Lov'd none in the world To wdl as Lucentio. 

Tra, O dcfpightful love I uncotiftant Womankind} 
I tell thee, Licro, this is wohdetfal. 

Hor. Miflrake no more : I am not Licio, 
Nor a mufician, as I feefti to bej 
But one that fcom to live in thistlilgtriii: 
iFor fuch a One as leaves a gentleman* 
And makes a god of fuch a cuUion : 
Know, fir, that I am call'd Hoitenfio. 

Trn. Signior Hortenfio, I have often heard 
(!)f your entire afFcdlion to Bianca ; 
And fince mine eyes are witnefs of hec lightnefs, 
J will with you, if you be fo contented* 
FOrfwear Bianca and her love f6r ever. 

Hor. See, ho>y they kifs and court !-— — Signiof 
Lucentio, 
J^ereis my hand, and here I fifmly vow 
Never to woo her more, but do forfwear her, 
As one unworthy all the former favours, 
That I have fondly flatter'd her withal. 

Tra. And here I take the like unfeigmed oath. 
Never to marry her, though Ihe would intreat. 
Fy on her ! fee, how beaftly fhe doth court him. 
Hor. Would ail the world, but he, had quite for- 
fworn ! 

Fof 



O i? T H E SHREW. 4ZJ 

For me, that I may furely keep mine o^tbf 

1 will be married to a wealthy wic}ow. 

Ere three days pafc ; which has as loog lov'd mc> 

As I have IqvM this proud difd^inful boggard : 

And fo farewel, figDiorLajcentio. 

Kindnefs in women, not their l>eauteous looks. 

Shall win my love : and fo I take my leave. 

In refolution as I fwore before. [£W/ ffpr. 

Tra. Miftrcfe Bianca, blefs you with fuch grace, 
As longeth to a lover^ blefled cafe ! 
Nay, 1 hav.c ta'cn you jiapping, gentle love. 
And have forfwora you, with Hortenfio. 

[Luceptio and Bianca come forward, 

Bian. Tranio, you jeft : but have you both for- 
fworn me ? 

Tra. Miftrcfs, we have, 

Imc. Then we are rid of Licio. 

Tra. rfaith, he'll have a lufty widow now. 
That fhall be woo'd and wedded in a day. 

Bian. God give him joy ! 

Tra. Ay, and he'Jl tame her. 

Bian. He fays fo, Tranio. 

Tra. Taith he is gone untp the taming fchool. 

Bian. The taming fchool ! what, is there fuch a 
place ? 

Tra. Ay, miftrefs, and Petruchio is the matter •, 
That teacheth tricks eleven and twenty long. 
To tame a (hrew, and charm her chattering tongue. 

Enter Biondelhj running. 

Bion. Oh matter, matter, I have watch'd fo long, 
That I'm dog-weary ; but at laft I fpicd 
^ An anqient angel going down the hill, 

Will 

^ j^H ancient 2ngt\.] For av^/ Mr. Theobald, and after him 
Sir T. Hanmer and Dr. Warborton read tngh. Johnsqn. 

Ji e 4 It 



414 THETAMING 

Will ferve the turn. 

Tra. What is he, Biondello ? 

Bion. Matter, a mercatantc,* or a pedant ^ 
I know not what •, but formal in apparel. 
In gait and countenance furely like a father. * 

Luc. And what of him, Tranio ? 

<Tra. If he be credulous, and truft my tale, 
I'll make Inm glad to feem Vincentio •, 
And give him affurance to Baptifta Minola, 
As if he were the right Vincentio. 
Take in your love, and then let me alone. 

[^Exeunt Lucentio and Bianco, 

Enter a Pedant. 

Fed. God fave you, fir ! 

'Tra. And you, fir ! you are welcome. 
Travel you far on, or are you at the farthcft ? 

Ped. Sir, at the fartheft for a week or two ; 
Bpt then up farther, and as far as Rome i 
And fo to Tripoly, if God lend me life. 

Tra, What countryman, I pray ? 

Ped. Of Mantua. 

It is true that the word engble, which Hanmcr calls a gull, ^e- 
irivine it from engluer, Fr. to catch with bird-lime) is fomctimcs 
lifcd by B. Jonfon. It cannot, however, bear that meaning at pre* 
fent, asBiondcUo confefles his ignorance of the quality of the perfi)a 
who is afterwards perfiiadcd to reprefent the father of Lucentio, 
The prccife meaning of it is not afcertained in Jonfon, neither is 
the word to be found in any of the original copies of Shakefpeare. 

Steeveks. 

' Maftcr, a mircafanti, Of a peJant,'] The old editions read msr* 
eantant. The Italian word mercatante is frequently ufed in the 
old plays for a merchant, and therefi>re I have made no fcrupJeof 
placing it here. The modern editors, who printed t|ie word M 
ihey found it fpclt ip the folio and quarto, were obliged to fupply 
a fyllable to make out the verfe, which the Italian pronunciation 
renders unncceflTary. St e evens. 

* — -5Wy, like a father.] I know not what he is, fays the 
Tpcaker, however this i«» certain, he has the gait and couptenaoce 
pf a fatherly man.' Warburton. 



O F T H E S H R E W. 425 

Tra. Of Mantua, fir ? Marry, God forbid ! 
And come to Padua, carelefs of your life ? 

Ped. My life, fir ! how, I pray you ; for that goes 
hard. 

9lr/?. 'Tis death for any one in Mantua 
To come to Padua : Know you not the caufe? 
Your Ihips are ftaid at Venice ; and the duke 
(For private quarrel 'twixt your duke and him,) 
Hath publifli'd and proclaim'd it openly : 
*Tis marvel ; but that you're but newly come. 
You might have heard it elfe proclaim'd about. 

Ped. Alas, fir, it is worfe for me than foj 
For I have bills for mony by exchange 
From Florence, and muft here deliver them. 

Tra. Well, fir, to do you courtefy. 
This will I do, and this will I advife you ; 
Firft, tell me, have you ever been at Pifa ? 

Ped. Ay^ fir, in Pifa have I often been : 
Pifa, renowned for grave citizens. 

Tra. An^ong them know you one Vincentio? 

Ped. I kiiuw him not, but I have heard of him; 
A merchant of incomparable wealth. 

Tra. He is my father, fir ; and, footh to fay. 
In countenance fomewhat doth refemble you. 

Bion. As much as an apple doth an oyfter, and all 
one. [4fide. 

Tra. To fave your life in this extremity. 
This favour will I do you for his fake : 
And think it not the worft of all your fortunes. 
That you are like to fir Vincentio. 
His name and credit (hall you undertake. 
And in my houfe you fliall be friendly lodg'd :— % 
Look, that you take upon you as you fhoul4. 
You underftand me, fir -, fo fhall you ftay, 
'Till you have done your bufincfs in the city, 
Jf this be courtefy, fir, accept of it. 

Ped. Oh, fir, I do ; and will repute you ever • 

The 



426 THE TAMING 

The pttron of my life and liberty. 

Tra. Then go with me to m^e the matter good. 
This by eke way I let you underftand. 
My father is here looked for every day. 
To pafs aflfurance of a dower in marriage 
*Twixt me and one ftaptifta's daughter here: 
In all thefe drcumftaaccs VU ]m&ro&. you : 
7 Go with me^ fir, to cloath you as becomes you. 

SCENE III. 

Evter CalbariMe and Grumio. 

-Gru. No, no, forfooth ; I dare not for my iife, 
Caib. The more my wrong, the more his fpiteap? 
pears: 
What, did he marry noe to familh me ? 
Beggars, that come unto my father's door. 
Upon intreaty, have aprefent alms^ 
If not, clfewhece they meet with charity : 
But I, who nevqj knew:how to intreat. 
Nor never needed that 1 fhould intreat. 
Am ftarv'd for meat, giddy for laok of fleep ; 
With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed: 
Ai^d that, which fpitcs me more than all thek wants, 
He docs it under name of pcrfcft love •, 
As who would fay. If I Ihould deep, pr eat, 
'Twere deadly ficknefs, or clfe prefcnt de^th. — 

' Go nvith «/, Ac] There is ap old cpmedy failed SuppoTes* 
tranflated from Arioilo, by Geor^ Gafcoigne. Thence ^ake- 
fpeare^rrowed this.pait of the plot, (as well as A>ine of the 
phrafeology) though Theobiald proopupces it bis own ioveotioo. 
There likewife he found tliequaint name of Petruchio. lAy young 
mailer and his man exchange habits, and perfuade a Sctm^eff^^i he 
is called, to.perfonate thfjnihtr^ ^xaAly as in. this play» by thie 
pretended daneer of his coming from Sivtna to F^rtarM^ coatraryr 
to the «akr roAhe jgovcrA^ientr Fa R M ftit. 

I pr'ytftce 



O F T H E S H R E W. ^ty 

I pr'y thee go, and get mc fomc repafl: ; 
I care not what, fo it be wholcfotnc food. 

Gru, What fay you to a neat's foot? 

Catb. 'Tispaffing good j I pr*ythce, let me have it, 

Gru. I fear, it is too flcgmatick a meat : — 
How fay you to a fat tripe finely broird ? 

Cash. I like it well ; good Grumio, fetch it mc* 

Gru. I cannot teil •,-—1 fear, it's cholerick. 
What fay you to a piece of beef, and muftftrd ? 

Cath. A difh, that I do love to feed ypon. 

Gru. Ay, but the muftard is too hot a littk. 

Caib. Why, then the beef, and let the mnftant 
reft. 

Gru. Nay, then I will not; you fhtll have the muf- 
tard. 
Or elfe you get no beef of Grumio. 

Catb. Then both, or one, or any thing chou wilt. 

Gru. Why, then the muftard without the beef. 

Caib. Co, get thee gone, thou falie deluding flave, 

[Beais bim. 
That feed'ft me with the very name of meat : 
Sorrow on thee, and all the pack of you. 
That triumph thus upon my mifery ! 
Co, get thee gone, I fay. 

Enter Petrucbio andHortenfto^ wUb meat. 

. Pet. How fares my Kate ? What, fweeting, all a^ 

mort? 
Hor. Miftrefs, what cheer ? 
Catk 'Faith, as cold as can be. 
Pet. Pluck up thy fpirits, look cheerfully upon 
me. 
Here, love ; thou feeft how diligent I am. 
To drefs thy meat myfclf, and bring it thee : 
ym fure, fweet Kate, this kindnefs merits thanks, 
^hat, not a word? Nay then, thou lov'ft it not; 

An4 



428 T H E T A M I N G 

And all my pains is forced to no proof / ■ ■ 
Here, take away the difh, 

Catb. I pray you let it (land. 

Pet. The pooreft fervice is repaid with thanks ; 
And fo fhall mine, before you touch the meac. 

Catb. I thank you, fir. 

Hor. Signior Pctruchio, fy ! you are to blame : 
Come, miftrefs Kate, Til bear you company. 

Pet. Eat it up all, Hortenfio, if thou lov'ft me.— 

lAfide, 
Much good do it unto thy gentle heart I 
Kate, eat apace : — And now, my honey-Iovc, 
Will we return unto thy father's houfe ; 
And revel it as bravely as the beft. 
With filken coats, and caps, and golden rings. 
With ruffs, and cuffs, and ' fardingals, and things ; 
With fcarfs, and fans, and double change of bravery, 
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery. 
What, baft thou din'd ? Tht taylor ftays thy leifure, 
'f o deck thy body with his rufiling treafure. 

Enter Taylor. 
Come, taylor, let us fee thefe ornaments. 

Enter Haberdajher. 
Lay forth the gown. What news with you, fir? 
Hab. Here is the cap your worfhip did befpeak. 

' y^nJ all «v pains is forte J to no proof, ] And all my labour has 
ended in nothing, or pro'ued nothing. I4''e tried an exptrimtrnt^ bttt 
it for ted not. Bacon. Johnson. 

» ^-^fardingals^ and things :] Though things is a poor word, yet 
I have no better, and perhaps the authour had not another that 
would rhyme. I once thought to tranfporc the words ringi and 
things^ but it would make litth improvement. Johnson. 

However poor the word, the poet muft be anfwerable for it, 
as he had ufed it before, ad ii. fc. 5, when the rhime did not 
force it upon him. 

//V •it/// ba*vt rings ^ and things, end fine army, 

Steeveks. 

Pet. 



OF THE SHREW. 4^9 

Pet. Why, this was moulded on a porringer, 
A velvet difti -, fy, fy ! 'tis lewd and filthy : 
Why, *tis a cockle or a walnut-fliell, 
A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby*s cap : 
Away with it, come, let me have a bigger. 

Cath. ril have no bigger ; this doth fit the time. 
Arid gentlewomen wear fuch caps as thefe. 

Pet. Wh.n you are gentle, you (hall haVconc too. 
And not *till then. 

Hor. That will not be in hafte. 

Catb. ' Why, fir," I truft, I majr have leave to 
fpeak. 
And fpeak I will. I am no child, no babe : 
Your betters have endur'd me fay my mind; 
And, if you cannot, bcft you ftop your ears. 
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart ; 
Or, elfe my heart, concealing it, will break : 
And rather than it fliall, 1 will be free 
Even to the uttermoft, as I pleafe, in words. 

Pet. Why, thou fay'ft true ; it is a paltry cap. 
A cuftard-coffin, a bauble, afilken pie: 
I love thee well, in that thou lik*ft it not. 

Catb. i.ove me, or love me not, I like the cap ; 
And it I will have, or I will have none. 

Pet. Thy gown ? why, ay.— Come, taylor, let us 
fec't. 
O mercy, heaven ! what mafking ftufF is here } 
What's this ? a flecve ? 'tis like a demi-cannon : 
What ! up and down, carv'd like an apple-tart ? 
Here's fnip, and nip, and cut, and flifli, and flalh, 

* Why^ fir, I truft, I may bai-e leave to fpea\, &C.] Shake*- 
fpeare has here copied nature with great (kill. Petruchio, by frieht- 
ening, ftarving, and overwatching his wife, had tamed her mco 
gentienefs and fubmiHicn. And the audience expels to hear no 
more of the fhrew: when on her being crofled, ui the article of 
falhion and fiucry, the mod inveterate folly of the fex, fhe flies 
out again, though for the laft time, into all the intemperate rage 
ofhernature. Warburton. 

Like 



430 TH£TAMiNGf 

Like to a ^ ceoler in a barber's (bop : 
Why, what o* devil's, oamc, taylor, caU'ft thou this i 
Hot. I fee, (he's like to h^ve neither ca^ norgowfli 

Tay. You bid me make it orderly and well. 
According to the fafliipn and the time^ 

Pet. Marry, and did : but if you be retnembredf 
I did not bid you mar it to the time. 
Go, hop me over every kennel home. 
For you (hall hop without my cuftom, fir : 
rU none of it •, hence, make your beft of it. 

Caib. I never faw a better fafhion'd gown. 
More quaint, more pleafing, nor more commendable. 
Belike, you mean to make a puppet of me. 

Pit. Why, true, he means to make a puppet of 
thee. 

Toy. She fays, your worfhip means to make a pup- 
pet of hen 

Pet. Oh monftrous arrocance \ 
Thou lyeft, thou thread, thou thimble, ' 
Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, naili 
Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter cricket thou ! 
Brav'd in mine own houie with a fkein of thread I 
Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant. 
Or I (hall fo be-mete thee with thy yard. 
As thou (halt think on prating whilft thou liv'ft ! 
I tell thee, I, that thou haft marred her gown. 

Toy. Your worihip is deceived : the gown is mzi^ 
Juit as my mafter had .diredtion : 
Grumio gave order how it (hould be done. 

* €2in/irty] in barber's (hope, are now difafed, bat tbeyinty 
daftly be imagined to have bc^n yeffeh which, for the emifStm of 
■the fmoke, were cac with great niunber and varieties of interaices^ 

JOHNSOIC. 

3 •.^p./^^if ilumSU^I The taylof^s trade having an appear- 
JMce -of eHeminacy, has always been, among the nigged £ngHf!r^ 
&blc .to iacciiins and contempt. Joh i?son . 



O F T H E S H R E W. 43^ 

, €ru. I gave him no order, I gave him the fluff. 

THy. But how did you defire it ihould be made i 

Grm. Marry, fir, with needle and thread. 

toy. But did you not requeil to have it cut i 

Gru. Thou haft fac'd many things. 

itof. I have. 

Gru. Face not me : thou haft brav'd many men ; 
brave not me : 1 will neither be fac'd, nor brav'd. I 
fay unto thee, I bid thy mafter cut out the gown ; 
but I did not bid him cue it to pieces : ergo^ thou 
iicft. 

Taj. Why, here is a note of the falhton to tef- 
tify. 

Pet. Read it. 

6r^. The note lies in his throat, if he fay I faid fa 

Tay. Imprimis^ a loofe-bodicd gown : 
-Gru. Matter^ if ever I faid loofc* bodied gown, fow 
me up in the fkirts of it, and beat me to death with 
a bottom of brown thread % I faid a gown. 

Pit. Proceed. 

Tay. fVitb a [mall ccmpafs'd cape •, * 

Gru. I contefs the cape. 

Tay. fVitb a trunk jl^eve^-^ 

Gru. I confefs two flceves. 
. Tay. The Jleeves curioujly cut. 

Pet. Ay, there's the villany. 

Gru Error i' the bill, fir, error i' the bilL I com-' 
manded, the fleeves fiiould be cut our, and fow'd up 
again; and that I'll prove upon thee, though thy 
lictk finger be armed in a thimbie. 

' — a fmaU comfoj? d cafe ;] Stubbs, in his Anatomy of Abafcs, 
1565, gives a moft elaborarte xlcfcrrption of the gowns of women ; 
and adds — '* Some-have cuf§i teaching down to the midft of tbelf 
backs, faced with velvet, or elfe with fome fine wrought ta£ata» 
at the leal), fringed about, very bravely." Stbeveks. 

A cofnpajYd caft is a round cape. To compa/s is to comt round. * 

JOHNSOsr* 

Tay, 



432 rtt£ TAMING 

^aj. This is true, that I fay ; an* I had thcc in place 
where, thqu fhou'dft know it. 

Gru. \ am for thee ftraight : take thou the bill^ 
give me thy * mete-yard, and fpare not me. 
Hor. God-a-mercy, Grumio ! then he fhall have 

no odds. 
P^/. Well, fir, in brief, the gown is not for me. 
Ctu. Tou arc i* the right, fir, 'tis for my miftrefs. 
Fet. Go, take it up unto thy matter's ufc. 
Gru. Villain, not for thy life : take up my miftrcfs's 
gown for thy matter's ufe ! 
Pet. Why, fir, what's your conceit in that ? 
Gru. Oh, fir, the conceit is deeper than you think 
for: 
Take up my mittrefs's gown unto bis matter's ufc ! 
Oh,fy,fy,fy! 
Pet. Hortenfio, fay, thou wilt fee the taylor paid. 

tAfidt. 
Go take it hence, be gone, and fay no more. 
Hor. Taylor, I'll pay thee for thy gown to-mor- 
row. 
Take no unkindncfs of his hatty words : 
Away, I fay -, commend me to thy matter. 

[Exit Taj. 
Pet. Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your fa- 
ther's. 
Even in thefe honett mean habiliments: 
Ourpurfes fhall be proud, our garments poor; 
For 'tis the mind, that makes the body rich : 
And as the fun breaks through the darkeft clouds. 
So honour pccrcth in the mcanett habit. 
What, is the jay more precious than the lark, 
Becaufc his feathers are more beautiful ? 
Or is the adder better than the eel, 
Becaule his painted ficin contents the eye ^ 

* ^r^thjf mifi'jartf,] i. e. thy meafuring-yard. Stbeveic}. 

Ob, 



O F T H E S H R E W. 433 

Oh, no, good Kate ; neither art thou the worfe 
For this poor furniture, and mean array. 
If thou account'ft it fhame, lay it on me : 
And therefore, frolick; wc will hence forthwith, 
To feaft and fport us at thy father's houfe. — 
Go, call my men, and let us ftraight to him ; 
And bring our horfes unto Long-lane end. 
There will we mount, and thither walk on foot.— • 
Let's fee ; I think, 'tis now fome fcven o'clock. 
And well we may come there by dinner- time. 

Cafb. I dare affure you, fir, *tis almoft two; 
And 'twill be fupper-time, ere you come there. 

Pel. It Ihall be fevcn, ere I go to horfe. 
Look, what I fpeak, or do, or think to do. 
You are ftill crofling it. Sirs, let't alone, 
I will not go to-day ; and ere I do, 
It (hall be what o'clock I fay it is. 

Hot. Why, fo I this gallant will command the^un. 

[Exif. Pet. Catb. and HorJ* 

• After this exit, the chara£lers before whom the play is fuppofed 
to be exhibited, are introduced again, from the fpunoas comedy 
mentioned in the former notes. 

Lord. fVbd*s within tbert f 

Enter Servants. 

jfJUep again ! g» take him eafily up^ and put blm in bis 9wn apfarii 
again. But fet yu nuakt bim not tn any caft^* 

Serv. It fiall hi done^ mjUrd; €omt btlp to bear bim b:nee. 

[They bear off iily, 
Stsbyiks* 



Vol. in. F f SCENE 



434 THETAMIN13 

'SCENE IV. 

Before Baptifta^s Imfe. 

Enter Tramoy and tbe Pedant drejfed like fimenth. 

Tra. Sir^ this is the houfe; plcafe it you, that I 
. call? 

Ped. Av, what clfc ! knd (but I be deceived,) 
Signior Biptifta ni2ty retncbiber nle 
Mcar twenty years ago, in Genoa, 
Where we were lodgers, at the Pcgafas.* 

Tra. 'Tis well, add hold your own in any cafe 
With fuch'adftcrity as •Ibiigeth to a father. 

EM:er BiondeUo. 

Ped. I warrant yoU : BUt, fir, here cotnes yobr 
boy; 
^werCgbod, he were fchool'd. 

TVtf. Fear you not him. Sirrah, BiondeUo, 
Now do your duty throughly, 1 advife you ; 
Imagine, 'twere the right VincentTo. 

Bion. Tut ! fear not me. 

^ra. But haft thou done thy errand to Baptifta ? 

Bimi. I told him, that your father was in Venice-, 

s I cannot but think that the dire£lion abbut the Tinker, who 
. is alwayi introduced at the end of the aAs, together with tbc 
change of the Tcene, and the proportion of each a6i to the lefti 
make it probable that the fifth a£i begins here. Johnson. 

* Tra. fVbtn <we nvtre lotlgers^ at the PtgafusA This line ha* 
in all the editions hitherto been given to Tranio. Bat Tranio 
conld with no propriety fpeak this, either in his aflomed or real 
charader. Luccntio was too young to know any thing of lodgint 
with his father, twenty years before at Genoa: and Tranio mo! 
be as much too young, or ytry unfit to reprefenc and peribnate 
Lucentio. I have ventured to place the line to the Pedant, to 
whom it mufl certainly belong, and is a fequel of what he ail 
before faying. Theobald. 

-And 



9 F t H £ SHJUEYT. 435 

4ii.d th^t.ypu ,iac4t'd for him tfeis day in jPafdu^ 
Tra. Thou'rt a tall fellow ; hold 4hcc that to 
drink; 
Here comes Saptiila : fet ypur countCMncc, fir. 

£a/^r Baptifta ,and Lucentio. 

^ra. Signior Baptifta, you are happily met : 
Sir, this is the gentleman il cold you of; 
I pray ryou ftand, good father, to me now. 
Give me Bianca for my patrimony. 

Fed. Soft, fon. 
Sir, by your leave 5 having come to Padu^ 
To gather inibme debts, my fon Lucentio 
Made mc acquainted with a weighty caufc 
Of love between your daughter and himfelf : 
And ^r^e good report I hear of you. 
And for the love he beareth to your daughter. 
And ihe to him } to ftay him not too long, 
1 am content, in a good father's care 
To have him matched; and, if you pleafe tolikd 
No worfe than I, fir, upon fome agreement, 
Mcfliall you find moft ready and moft willing 
With one confent to have hcr'fo beftow'd : 
For curious 1 cannot be with you, 
Signior Baptifta, of whom I hear fo well. 

Baf, Sir, pardon me in what I have to fay : 
Your plainnefs, and your fliortnefs, pleafe me welL 
Right true it is, your fon Lucentio here 
Doth love my daughter, and fhe loveth him. 
Or both diflcmble deeply their affections : 
And, therefore, if you fay no more than this. 
That like a.^thcr you .will deal with him. 
And pafs my daughter a fufficient dower. 
The match is made, and all is done, 
Your fon ftiall have my daughter with confent. 

F f 2 rta. 



436 T H E T A M I N G 

Tra. I thank you, fir. 7 Where then do you know 
beft, 
Be we affied ; and fuch alTurance taken. 
As (hall with either part's agreement (land ? 

Bap. Not in my houfe, Lucentio; for, you know, 
Pitchers have ears, and I have many fervants : 
Befides, old Gremio is hearkning ftill ; 
And, haply, then we might be interrupted. 

Tra. Then at my lodging, an it like you, fir : 
There doth my father lie; and there, this night 
We'll pafs the bufinefs privately and well: 
Send for your daughter by your fervant here. 
My boy ftiall fetch the fcrivener prcfently. 
The word is this, that, at fo (lender warning 
You're like to have a thin and (lender pittance. 

Bap. It likes me we)l. Cam bio, hie you home. 
And bid Bianca make her ready (Iraight: 
And, if you will, tell what hath happened : 
Lucentio*s father is arriv'd in Padua, 
And how (he's like to be Lucentio's wife. 

Luc. I pray the Gods (he may, with all my heart! 

[Exii. 

Tra. Dally not, with the Gods, but get thee gone. 
Signior Baptifta, fhall I lead the way ? 
Welcome ! one mefs is like to be your cheer. 
Come, fir, we will better it in Pifa. 

Bap. I follow you. £^ExnM. 

Bion. Cambio. [Luciniio returns. 

Luc. What fay'ft thou, Biondello? 

' — IVbin thin Joy§u kno'w htfi^ 
Bi w# affied ;— ] 
This fccms to be wrong. Wc may read more comaiodiouflf, 
— Whrri tbtn you do km^'w btfi 
Bi^ui affied \ 

Px thas, which I think is right. 

Whin then do ym trow htji^ 
Wtbt affitdi^^'^ JOHNSOM. 

Bin. 



O F T H E S H R E W. 437 

Bion. You faw my mailer wink and laugh upon 
you ? 

Luc. Biondcllo, what of that ? 

Bion. 'Faith, nothing ; but he has left me here 
behind to expound the meaning or moral of his figns 
and tokens. 

Lhc. I pray thee, moralize them. 

Bion. Then thus. Baptifta is fafe, talking with 
the deceiving father of a deceitful fon. 

Luc. And what of him ? 

Bion. His daughter is to be brought by you to th« 
fupper. 

Luc. And then ? 

Bion. The old prieft at St. Luke's church is at 
your command at all hours. 

Luc. And what of all this ? 

Bion. I cannot tell ; expedt, they are bufied about 
a counterfeit affurance ; take you afiurance of her. 
Cum privilegio ad imprimendum foliim \ to the church, 
take the prieft, clerk, and fome fufficient honeft wit- 
neffes : 
If this be not that you look for^ I have no more to 

fay. 
But bid Bianca farewel for ever and a day. 

Luc. Hear'ft thou, Biondello ? 

Bion. I cannot tarry : I knew a wench married in 
an afternoon as (he went to the garden for parfly to 
ftufF a rabbet -, and fomay you, fir, and fo adieu, fir. 
My matter hath appointed me to go to St. Luke's, to 
bid the prieft be ready to come againft you come with 
your appendix. [Exit. 

Luc. 1 may, and will, if (he be fo contented : 
She will be pleas'd, then wherefore fliould I doubt ? 
Hap what hap may. Til roundly go about her ;• 
It (hall go hard, if Cambio go without her. {Exit. 



F f 2 SCENE 



438 THETAMING 

S C E N £ V. 
A green lane. 
Enter Petruebio, Catbarinej and Hork^/ia. 

Pet. Come on, (/GodV immc; once morp tcwiFdf 

our father's, 
pood Lord, how bright and goodly fbincs the mooft ! 

Catb. The moon I the fun ; it is nofi oei0On-li|||it 
now. 

Pet. I fay, ic is the moon that fhines (o bright^ 

Catb. I know, it is the fun that (hines fo bright. 

Pet. Now by my mother's fon, andthat*s myfelfi 
It (hall be moon, or ftar, or what 1 \\% 
Or ere I journey to your father's houfc :-^ 
Go on, and fetch our horfcs back agaih; 
Evermore croft and croft \ nothing but croft! 

Hor. Say, as he fays, or we fhall never go^ 

Catb. Forward 1 pray, Gnce we are come fe fur^ 
And be it moon, or fun, or what you pleafe : 
And if you pleafe to call it a rufh candle. 
Henceforth I vow it fball be fo for me. 

Pet, I 'fay, it is the moon. 

Catb. I know, it is the moon* 

Pet. Nay, then you lye \ it is the blefied fun. 

Catb. Then, God be bleft, it is the blcflfed fun : 
But fun '\X is not, when you fay it is not ; 
And the moon changes, even as your mind. 
What you will have it nam*d, cveh that it is. 
And fo it (hall be fo for Catharine. 

Htr. Petruchio, go thy way ; the" field is won. 

Pet. Well, forward, forward: thus the bpwlfliould 
run, 
A Ad not unluckily againft the bias. 
But foft, fome company is coming here. 

Enter Vincentio. 

Good-morrow> gentle miftrefs j where away ? 

\To Vincerth. 
^ TcU 



' Tell mc, fwcct Kate, ^nd t^H me truly too^ 
Haft thou beheld a( fi;eftier gentlewoman ? 
Such war of white and red >ithin her cheeks ! 
What ftars do fpangle heaven wjth fuch beauty. 
As thbfe two cyt^ become that heavenly face ? 
Fair lovely maid, once qiore good day to thee:— 
Sweet Kate, embrace her for her ^eauty*s fake. 

Hot. He wi^l make the man maid, to make a wo* 
man of him, 

Caik Young budding virgin, fair, and frelh, and 
fweet. 
Whither away ; or where is thy abode ? 
Happy thp parents of fo fair a child ; 
Happier thcf mant whom favourable ftars 
Allot thee for his lovely bedfellow ! 

' Tellme^ fwttt Kate^] In the firjl iketch of this play, printed 
^n 1607, w6 find twofpeecbes in this place worth pr^ferviag, an4 
feeming to be of the hand of Shakefpe^e> thoogh the rtH of that 
play is far inferior. 

** Fair lovely maiden, young and affable, 
** More clear of hue,' knd far niore beautiful 
** Than precious fardonyx, or purple rocks 

*• Of amethifts, or glittering hyacinth — 

** Sweet Catharine, this lovely woman m 

" Caiif. Fair lovely lady, bright and chryilalinei 
'* Beauteous and (lately as the e^e-train'd bird ; 
•* As glorious as the morning walh'd with dew, 
** Within whofe eyes Jhc takes her dawning beamg, 
•* And golden fummer ilccps upon thy cheeks. 
** Wrap up thy radiations in forae cloud, 
•* Left that thy beauty make this (lately town 
*' l^ninhabitable as the burning zone, 
*« With fweet refledions of thy lovely face. Popi, 

An attentive reader will perceive in this fpeech fevcral words 
which arc employed in none of the legitimate plays of Shake- 
fpeare. Such, I believe, fire, Jaraonyx^ hyacinth ^ eye-train* d^ ra* 
iiatinsf and efpecially uninbatttabli i our poet generally ufing 
ii.habitabit in its room, as in Rich. II. ■ 

Or any other ground inhabitable. 
Thefe inftances may ferve as fome proofs, that the former play 
was not the work of Shakefpeare. Stbevens. 

F f 4 /*f/. 



440 T H E T A M I N G 

Pet. Why, how now, Kate ! I hope thou art not mad: 
This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered ; 
And not a maiden, as, thou fay'ft he is. 

Catb. Pardon, old father, my miftaken eyes ; 
That have been fo bedazzled with the fun. 
That every thing I look on fcemcth green. 
JJow I perceive, thou art a reverend father : 
Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad miftaking. 
Pet. Do, good old grandfire; and withal, make 
known 
Which way thou travelled : if along with us. 
We Ihall be joyful of thy company. 

Vin. Fair fir, and you my merry miftrefs. 
That with yourftrange encounter much amaz'd me; 
My name is caird Vincentio'; my dwelling Pifa \ 
And bound I am to Padua ; there to vifit 
A fon of mine, which long I have not feen. 
Pet. What is his name ? 
Vin. Lucentio, gentle fir. 
Pet. Happily met ; the happier for thy fon. 
And now by law, as well as reverend age, 
I may entitle thee my loving father : 
The fifter of my wife, this gentlewoman. 
Thy fon by this hath married. Wonder not, 
Kor be not griev'd ; (he is of good efteem. 
Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth 5 
Befide, fo qualified, as may befecm 
The fpoufe of any noble gentleman. 
J-et me embrace with old Vincentio, 
And wander we to fee thy honeft fon, 
[Who will of thy arrival be full joyous. 

Vin. But is this true ? or is it elfe your pleafure, 
ILike plcafant travellers, to break a jeft 
Upon the company you overtake ? 
Hor. I do aflurc thee, father, fo it is. 
Pet, Come, go along, and fee the truth hereof; 
For our firfl: merriment hath made thee jealous. 

[Exeunt Pit. Catb. and Vin. 
Her. 



O F T H E S H R E W. 441 

'' Hor. Well, Petruchio, this hath put me in heart. 
Have to my widow, and if Ihc be froward, 
Then haft thou taught Hortenlio to be untoward. 

[Exit. 



ACT V. SCENE I. 

Before Lucenlio*s boufe. 

Enter Biondello, Lucentio and Bianca^ Gremo walking on 
one fide. 

BlONDELLO. 

SOFTLY and fwiftly, fir; for the pricft is readjr. 
Luc. I fly, Biondello : but they may chance to 
need thee at home, therefore leave us. 

Bion. Nay, faith, Til fee the church o* your back j 
^ and then come back to my mafter as foon as I can. 

{Ei^euni. 
Gre. I marvel, Cambio comes not all this while. 

Enter Petrucbio^ Catharine^ Vincentio^ and attendants. 

Pet, Sir, here's the door, this is Lucentio's houfc. 
My father's bears more towards the market-place j 
Thither muft I, and here I leave you, fir. 

Vin. You ftiall not chufe but drink before you go i 
I thinky I fiiall command your welcome here> 

' «— a«i/ then crnnt hack to my miilrefs as foon at I can. ] Th6 edi* 
tions all agree ia this reading ; but what miHrefs was Biondello 
to come back to ? he muft certainly mean ; '^ Nay, faith, fir» I 
** muft fee you in the church; and then for fear I mould bewAn^ 
** ed, I'll run back to wait on Tranio, who at prefcnt perfonatet 
** you, and whom therefore I atprefent acknowledge for my 
•• mafierj* Thiobald. 

And, 



44t T 8 E; T A M I Jf Q 

Aad^ bjr ^ lULdihto^ fomc cheer is tiawvcl^ 

Gr6. Thfiy'K fewfy vithin, you w^w Ipcft Iqnpcji: 
liwder. [Pedant looks out of the window. 

Ped. What*s he, that knocks as he would beat down 
the gate ? 

yifj. Is fignior Lucentio within, fir ? 

Ped. Hc*s within, fir, but not tq be fpoken \^^hal. 

Fin. What, if a man bring him a hundred pound 
or two, to make merry vyithal ? 

Ped. Keep your Hundred pounds to yourfclf ; he 
fliall need none as k)ng gs I live. 

Pet. Nay, I told you, ygur fon was belov'd in Pa- 
dua. Do you hear, fir ? to leave frivolous circum- 
(lances, I pray you, tell fignior Lucentio that his fa- 
tKer is come from Pif^ ^nd is her^ at the door t^ 
fpeak with him. 

Ped. Thou liefti his father is coipe p Padua,' 
fnd here looking out of the >y}ndpw. 

yin. Art thou hi^ ftthcr ? 
. Ped. Ay, fir; fo his mother fays, if I may believe 
her. 

Pet. Why, how now, gentleman ! why, this is flat 
knavery to take upon you another man';s nam/?.- 

Ped' Lay hands on the villain ; 1 believe, he means 
to CQZW fomebody in this city under my countenance. 

Re-enter Bionddh. 

Bion. I have feen ii\tni in the church together. God 
fend 'em good (hipping ! But who is here ? mine old 
tnafter Vincentio ? now we arr UQdone, and hr.QUgh: 
JO nothing. 

Vtn. Come hither, crack -hemp. [Sedng BJondello. 

Bmi. 1 hope, 1 jcn^y chufe, fir. 

f •*«—/« faJua,] The old copies read, — from Pi/a. 

bTEEVINS. 



O F T H E S H R E W. 44^ 

fVii. Come hither, you rogue : What, have you 
forgot me ? 

Bhn. Forgot you ? no^ fir : I could not fox^et 
youi for I oever iaw you before m all my life* 

Fin. What, you notorious villain, didft thou nc* 
ver fee thy matter's father Vincentio ? 

Bi^H. What, my worfhipful c^ matter? yes, marry, 
fir ; fee where he looks out of the window. 

FiPi Is'C fo indeed ? [He hats BiondeOc, 

Bion. Help, help, help ! here's a madman will mur* 
der me. [Exii. 

P^d. Help, fon ! help, fignior Baptifta ! 

Pet. Pr'ythee, Kate, let's fl:and afide, and fee the 
end of this controverfy. \^bey retire. 

Snter hlowj the Pedant with fervants^ Baptifta^ aad 
Tranicu 

Tra. Sir, what are you that offer to beat my fer* 
vant ? 

Fin. What am I, fir; nay, what are you, fir? 
Oh, immortal Gods ! oh, fine villain f a filken doub- 
let, a velvet hofe, a fcarlet cloak and a * copatain hat? 
Oh, I am undone! I am undone! while I play the 
good hulband at home, my Ton andmyfervantsfpend 
all at the univerfity. 

» — .fl copatain hat^"] is, I believe, a bat with a conical crovira, 
fiKh as was anciently worn by wdl^dreiTed men. Johnson. 

This kiad of hat is twice xnentioaed by Gaiboignew Set 
Hearbesy page 1 54 : 

A coptankt bat made en a Fhm'tjh ilcci. 

And again in his epilogae» page 216. 

With high copt bats^ and ft atbers flaunt a flaunt* 

In Smbbs's Aoatomie of Abnies, printed i^5> there ts tn en* 
tire chapter on the hattes of England* beginniag thus: 

SimuimH tbtf ujk tbnm finarf $n tbt crvnvnif fiorhug mp hkt tht 
ffiart erlb^ft §f A flitpk^ flmiitg m quarter §/ m jpMNisimm Mn 
4iro^n$ ^ ttmr beadif iic» Stievbns. 

Tra. 



444 THETAMING 

STrtf . How now, what's the matter ? 

Bap. What, is this man lunatick ? 

^ra. Sir, you fcem a fobcr ancient gentleman bf 
your habit, but your words (hew a mad-man : Why, 
iir, what concerns it you, if I wear pearl and gold? 
I thank my good father, I am able to maintain it. 

Vin. Thy father ! oh villain ! he is a fail-maker in 
Bergamo. ' 

Baf. You miftake, fir ; you miftake, fir ; pray, 
what do you think is his name ? 

Vin. His name ? as if I knew not his name : I have 
brought him up ever fince he was three years old, and 
bis name is Tranio. 

Ptd. Away, away, mad afs : his name is Lucentio, 
and he is mine only fon, and heir to the lands of me 
fignior Vincentio. 

Vin. Lucentio! oh, he hath murdered his maftcr! 
Lay hold of him, I charge you, in the duke's name : 
Oh, my fon, my fon ! tell me, thou villain, where is 
ray foB Lucentio ? 

Tra. Call forth an officer : carry this mad knave to 
the jail : father Baptilta, I charge you, fee, that he be 
forth-coming. 

Vin. Carry me to the jail ? 

Gre. Stay, officer, he fliall not go to prifon. 

Bap. Talk not, fignior Gremio 5 I fay he (hall go 
to prifon. 

Gre. Take heed, fignior Baptifta, left you be cony- 
catch'd in this bufinels *, I dare fwear this is the right 
Vincentio, 

Fed. Swear, if thou dar'ft. 

Gre. Nay, I dare not fwear it. 



3 g fail-makir r« Bergamo,'] Chapman has a parallel 

pafTage in his Widow's Tears, a comedy, 161 2. 

•• ——he draws the thread of his defcent from Lcda's diftaf, 
** when 'tis well known hisgrandiire cried coney *{kins in Sparta." 

Stievbks. 

fra. 



O F T H E S H R E W. 445 

Tra. Then thou wcrt bcft fay, that I am not Lu- 
centio ? 

Gre. Yes, I know thee to be fignior Lucentio ? 
Bap. Away with the dotard -, to the jail with him ! 

Re-^nter Biondelh with Lucentio and Bianca. 

Vin. Thus ftrangers may be hal'd and abused : oh, 
monftrous villain ! 

Bion. Oh, we arc fpoil'd, and yonder he is ; dcqy 
him, forfwear him, or elfe we arc all undone. 

[Exeunt Biondello^ TraniOy and Pedant. 

Luc. Pardon, fweet father. [^Kneeling. 

Vin. Lives my fweet fon ? 

Bian. Pardon, dear father. 

Bap. How haft thou offended ^ where is Lucen- 
tio ? 

Luc. Here's Lucentio, right fon to the right Vin- 
centio, 
That have by marriage made thy daughter minCs? 
While counterfeit fuppofers blear'd thine cyne. 

Gre. Here's packing with a wicnefs, to deceive us 
all! 

Vin Where is that damned villain, Tranio ? 
That fac'd and brav'd me in this matter fo ? 

Bap. Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio ? 

Bian. Cambio is chang'd into Lucentio. 

Luc. Love wrought thefe miracles. Bianca's love 
Made me exchange my ftate with Tranio, 
While he did bear my countenance in the town j 
And happily I have arriv'd at laft 
Unto the wilhed haven of my blifs : 
What Tranio did, myfelf enforc'd him to ; 
Then pardon him, fweet father, for my fake. 

Vin. ril flit the villian's nofe, that would have 
lent me to the jail. 

Bap. But do you hear, fir ? Have you married my 
daughter without aflcing my good-will ? 

I Vin. 



^6 T H E T A MIN<3 

Fin. Fear not, JBaptifta, wc wUl coatttt |km]» ga 
to: 
But I will in, to ibe rcveng'd for this yillainy. ;[£*//. 
£ap. And i, to found (the:dcptb of this kuBSttry. 

[Exit, 

Luc. LoeJc not pak, Sianta i thy father ^ill not 

frown. [£wni/. 

Cre. My cake is dough -/but Til in among the 

. reft, 

•Out of hope of all, but my ihare of the featt. [Erit 

[Titrucbio andCaibarine advancing. 

£atb. Hiifband, let's follow^ to fee the ^nd of thif 

ado. 
Pet. Firft kifs me, Kate^ and mt will. 
Cath. What, in the midft of the ftrect,? 
Pet. What, art thou alhamM of m^e ? 
.Cath, No, fir, God forbid ! but .afiiam'd to kifs. 
Pet. Why, then letVhome again : Come, firrah, 

let's away. 
Catb. Nay, 1 will give thee a kifs : now pray tbfiTf 

love, ftay. 
Pet. Is not this well ? Come, my fwcet Kate; 
Better once than never, for never too late. [Esaunt^ 

SCENE JL 

JLucentio^s aparisnents. 

Enter Baptifta^ Vincentio^ Gremi$^ Pedant j Xjicentuf^ Bi- 
anca^ TraniOy BiondelloyPetrucbio^^Catbarine^^GrumQi 
Hortenfioy arid Widow. T^be Jerving-men v)itb Tronic 
bringing in a banquet. 

Luc. At laft, tho' loRgy our jarring not^s fgree : 
And time it is, when raging war is don^, 

^ My cake is J-ugb,"] This is a proverbial cxpreflion which! 
meet with in the old interlude of Tom Tyler and his Wife, \i^, 
V Abs poor Tom, hit cah uJqu^:^ Stebviks. 

Ta 



OP THE S H R E W. 447 

To fmile at 'fcapes and perils over-blown. 
My fair Bianca, bid my father welcon)e» 
While I with fclf-fame kindnefs welcome thine : 
Brother Petruchio, filler Catharine,-^ 
And thou, Hortenfio, with thy loving 'widow,**^ 
f^eaft with the beft, and welcome to my houfe: 
My banquet is to clofe our ftomachs up 
After our great good cheer : Ptay you, fit down } 
For now we fie to chat, as well as eat. 

Pet. Nothihg but fit and fit, and cat and eat! 

Biip. Padua affords this kindnefs, fon Petruchio. 

Fet. Padua affords nothing but whiat is kind. 

Hor. For both our fakes, I would that word were 
true. 

Pit. Now, for my life, Hortenfio fears his widow. 

Wid. Then never trufl me if 1 be afeard. 

Pet. You are very fenfible, and yet you mifs my 
fenfe : I mean, Hortenfio is afeard of you. 

Wid. He, that is giddy, thinks the world -turns 
round. 

Pet. Roundly re^ly-d, 

Cath. Miftrefs, how mean you that ? 

IVid. Thus I conceive by him. 

Pet. Conceives by me ! how likes Hortenfio that ? 

Her. My widow fays, thds fhe conceives her talc. 

Pet. Very well mended: kifs him for that, good 
widow. 

Catb. He, that is giddy, thinks, the world turns 
round 
I pray you, tell me what you uneant by that. 

Wid. Your hufband, being troubled with a fhrew, 
Mcafures my hufband's forrow by his woe :. 
And now you know my meaning, 

Catb. A very mean meaning. 

Wid. Right, I mean you. 

Catb. And I am mean, indeed, refpefting you. 

Pet. To her, Kite! 

•z Ilor. 



448 THE TAMING 

Hor. To her, widow ! 

Pet. A hundred marks, my Kate docs put her 

down. 
Hor. That's my office, 
PeL Spoke like an officer: ha' to thee, lad 

[Drinks to Hortenk. 
Bap. How likes Gremio thefe quick-witted folks ? 
Gre. Believe me, fir, they butt together well. 
Bian. Head and butt ? an hafty-witted body 
Would fay, your head and butt were head and horn. 
• Vin. Ay, Miftrefs bride, hith that awaken'd you ? 
Bian. Ay, but not frighted me ; therefore Til fleep 

again. 
Pet. Nay, that thou (halt not : fince you have be- 
gun. 
Have at you for a better jeft. or two. 

Bian. Ami your bird ? I mean to ihift my bulh: 
And then purfue me, as you draw your bow : 
You arc welcome all. 

^Exeunt Biancaj Catharine^ andH^tdow. 
Pet. She hath prevented me. Here, lignior Tranio, 
This bird you aim'd at, tho* you hit her not ; 
Therefore, a health to all that fhot and mifs'd. 

Tra. Oh, fir, Lucentio dipt me like his grey-hound, 
Which runs himfelf, and catches for his mailer. 
Pet, A good fwift fimile, * but fometbing currilh. 
7ra. *Tis well, fir, that you hunted for yourfclf : 
Tis thought your deer does hold you at a bay. 
Bap, Oh, oh, Petruchio, Tranio hits you now. 
Luc. I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio. 
Hor. Confcfs, confcfs ; hath he not hit you there ? 
Pei. He has a little gall'd me, I confcfs \ 

% -/wi/i,] befides the original ftnfc of ^eiify h m0it0iit 

figniiied witfj^ quick-'witttd. So in As You Like It» the Duke 
fays of the Clown, He is 'very fwift anJ ftntenthm. Styck is now 
u(ed in almoft the fame fenfe as nimhU was in the age after that of 
our author. Heylin fays of Hales^ that he IhuI kmiwm Lsud/er s 
nimble difftUMt. Johnson. 

•I And» 



O F T H E S H R E W. 449 

And, as the jcft did glance away from me, 
*Tis ten to one it maim*d you two outright. 

Bap. Now, in good fadnefs, fon Petruchio, 
I think, thou haft the verieft ftirew of all. 

Pet. Well, I fay, no : and therefore for affurance. 
Let's each one fend unto his wife ; 
And he, whofe wife is moft obedient 
To come at firft when he doth fend for her. 
Shall win the wager which we will propofc. 

Hor. Content; what's the wager ? 

Luc. Twenty crowns. 

Pet. Twenty crowns ! 
ril venture fo much on my hawk or hound. 
But twenty times fo much upon my wife. 

Luc. A hundred then. 

Hor. Content. 

Pet. A match ; 'tis done. 

Hor. Who fhall begin ? 

Luc. That will I. 
Go, Biondello, bid your miftrefs cotne to me. 

£ion. I go. [Exit, 

Bap. Son, I will be your half, Bianca comes. 

Luc. ril have no halves ; Til bear it all myfelf. 

Re- enter Biondello. 

How now, what news ? 

Bion. Sir, my miftrefs fends you word 
That (he is bufy, and (he cannot come. 

Pet. How ! ftie's bufy, and cannot conic I 
Is that an anfwer ? 

Cre. Ay, and a kind one too : 
Pray God, fir, your wife fend you not a worfc. 

Pet. I hope better. 

Hor. Sirrah, Biondello, go and intreat my wife to 
come to me forthwith. [Exit Biondello. 

Pet Oh, ho ! intreat her ! 
Nay, then flic needs muft come. 

Vol. m. C g Hor. 



4$6 T H E T A M I ^ (3 

Her. I am afraid, fir, do what you can. 

Enter BiondiUo. 

Yours will not be intrcatcd : Now, whcrc's my wife ? 

^ion. She fays, you have forfle goodly jcft in hand \ 
She will not come : Ihe bids you come to hef. 

Pet. Worfe and \Vorfe ; (he will not come ! 
Oh vile, intolerable, not to be endured : 
Sirrah, Grumio, go to your miftrefs, 
Say, I command her to come to me. {Exit Grumio. 

Hor. I know her anfwer. 

Tet. What ? 

Hot. She will not. 

Tet. The fouler fortune mifie, and there's an end. 

Enter Catharine. 

Baf. Now, by my hollidame, here comes Catharine! 

Catb, What is your will, fir, that you fend for me? 

Pet. Where is your fitter, and Hortenfio's wife ? 

Cath. They fit confef ring by the parlour fire. 

Pet. Go fetch them hither ; if they deny to come. 
Swinge me them foundly forth unto their hufbands : 
Away, I fay, and bring them hither ftraight. 

{Exit Catharine. 

Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder. 

Hor. And fo it is ; I wonder, what it bodes. 

Pet. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet 
life. 
And awful rule, and right fupremacy ; 
And, to be Ihort, what not, that's fweet and happf. 

Bap. Now fair befal thee, good Petruchio 1 
The wager thou hatt won ; and I will add 
.Unto their loflTes twenty thoufand crowns 5 
Another dowry to another daughter. 
For fhe is chang'd, as fhe had never been. 

Pet. Nay, 1 will win my wager better yet j 

And 



OF T H E S H R E W. 451 

And (how morpfign of her obedience, 
Her new-built.virtue and obedience. 

» Re-interCapharine^BiancOyandlVidow. 

See, where (he come$, and brings your froward wives 
As prifoners to her womanly perluafion. 
Catharine^ that cap of yours becomes you not; 
Off with that bauble, throw it underfoot. 

• [She fuils$ff her cap, and. throws it down. 

Wid, Lord, let me never, have a caufc to figh, 
'Till I be brought to fuch a filly pafs ! 

Bian. Fy ! what a fooli(h duty call you this ? 

Luc. I would your duty were as foolilh too! 
The wifdom of your duty, fair Bianca, ^ 

Cod me an hqndred crowns* fincc fupper-timc. • 

Bian4 The more fool yoii, for laying on my dutjr. 

Pet. Catharine, I charge thee, tell thcfc hcadftrong 
women, - 
What duty they do owe. their lords and hufbands.- 

Wid. Come, come, you're Imocking-, we will have 
no telling. • . . f 

\ Pet. Comeoa, I fay; and fir(tbegin with her. ' 

md. She (hall not. > 

Pet. I lay, (he (hall ; and (Ird begin with her. * *! 

Cath. Fy! {y\ unknit that threatening, unkiftH 
brow; • 

And dart not fcornfal glances from thofe eyes, *• 
To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor : ^ 

It blots thy beauty as frbfts bite the meads ; 
Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds (hake fair budsV 
And in no fenfe is meet or amiable. '^ 

A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled. 
Muddy, ill-feem'rng, thick, bereft of beauty ; 
And, while it is fo,*none fo dry or thtrdy 
Will deign to fip or touch one droprof it. 
Thy hi)(band is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper. 
Thy head, thy fovcrcign ; one that cares for thee,. , 
G g 2 And 



45^ T H E T A M I N G 

And for thy maintenance : commits his body 

To painful labour both by fea and land ; 

To watch the night in ftorms, the day in cold. 

While thou ly'fl: warm at home^ fecurc and fafe % 

And craves no other tribute at thy hands* 

But love, fair looks, and true obedience ; 

Too little payment for fo great a debt. 

Such duty as the fubjed owes the prince. 

Even fuch a woman oweth to her hufband : 

And when (he's froward, peevifh, fullen, four. 

And not obedient to his honeft will ; 

What is flie but a foul contending rebel. 

And gracelefs traitor to her loving lord i 

I am afliam'd, that women are fo fimple 

To o£fer war where they (hould kneel for peace; 

Or feek for rule, fupremacy, and fway. 

When they arc bound to fcrve, love, and obey. 

Why are our bodies foft, and weak, and foKWCh, 

Unapt to toil and trouble in the world ; 

But that our foft conditions, and our hearts 

Should well agree with our external parts ? 

Come, come, you froward and unable worms i 

My mind hath been as big as one of yours. 

My heart as great ; royreafon, haply, more. 

To bandy word for word, and frown^ for frown : 

But now, I fee, our launces are but ftraws. 

Our ftrength as weak, our weaknefs pad compare *, 

That feeming to be moft, which we mdeed leaft are. 

• Then vail your ftomachs, for it is no boot j 

And place your hands below your huiband's foot : 

In token of which duty, if he pleafe. 

My hand is ready, may it do him eafe. 

Pet. Why, there's a wench ! Come on, and kill 
me, Kate. 

Luc. Well, gothy ways, old lad \ for thou (halt ha't. 

^Thin vail j99rft9mmcbt^utA'om9t prat rcfimtmtBti. Sri it 

Vin. 



O F T K E S H R E W. 45^ 

yin. 'Tis a good hearing, when children arc toward. 
Imc. But a harfh hearing, when women are fro* 

ward. 
Pet. Come, Kate, we'll to-bed : 
We three are married, but you two are fped. 
•Twas I won the wager, tho' you hit the ^ white ; 
And, being a winner, God give you good night ! 

[Exeunt Petruckh and Catharine.' 
Hor. Now go thy ways, thou haft tam*d a curft 

fhrow. 
Luc. *Tis a wonder, by your leave, fhc will be tam*d 
fo. [Exeunt omnes.^ 

^ Though you hit the nvhlttJ] To hit x\itnuhiti is a phrafe bor- 
rowed from archery : the mark was commonly white. Here it 
alludes to the name Biamca, or luhitt. Joh n son . 

* At the conclufion of this piece, Mr. Pope continued Ym info* 
tions from the old play as follows : 

Enter tnuo/ervantsy hearing Sfy in his envn afparel, and Iteming him 
on the ft age. Then enter a Tapfter. 

Sly. [awaking.] Sim^ gi<ut*s /ome mort 'wine-'-^''~^^hatg all tb§ 
flayers gone f am I not a lord? 

Tap. A lordf nvith a murrain ? come, art thou drunk fiill T 

Sly. Who's this ? Tapfter ! oh^ I bane bad the hraveft dream thai 
ever thou beard* ft in all thy life. 

Tap. Tea, marry ^ hut thou hadft heft get thee home^ for your nuifi 
nut II curfeyoufcr dreaming here all night. 

Sly. IVillJbe /* / knoiu bow to tame a (hrew. / dreamt upon it alt 
this nighty and thou baft twak^d me out of the heft dream that e*uer L 
bad. But rilto my nvife^ and tame her too ifftn anger me. 

Thefe pafTages, which have been hitherto printed as partof ths 
work of Shakefpeare, I have funk into the notes, that they may be 
preferved, as they are neceflary to the integrity of the piece» 
though they really compofe no part of it, being neither publlflied 
in the folio or quarto editions. The players delivered down tbia 
comedy, among the reft, as one of Shakefpeare's own ; and its in* 
trinfic merit bears fufficient evidence to the propriety of their de- 
cifion. Mr. Pope is the only perfon who appears to have met with 
the old (purious play of the fame name. The fpeech which heiiat 
quoted from hence, bears little refemblance, in my opinion, to 
the ftileofShakefpeare; and, if I am not midaken, exhibits fe^ 
Vcral words, which he has employed in no other of his pieces. It 

may 



'454 T H E T A M I N G 

may likewife be remarked, that the old copy of this play, (Ijited 
] 607, from which Mr. Pope inferced fuch pafTages as are now de- 
graded, does not appear to have reached the hands of Dr. War- 
burton, who inherited all the red which his friend had enumerated. 
For this copy I have repeatedly advertifed, with fuch offers as 
might have tempted any indigent owner to have fold it, and, I 
hope, in fuch terms as might have procured me the loan of it from 
thofe who preferved it only on account of its rarity. It was, how* 
ever, neither to be bought, borrowed, or heard of. I would 
therefore, excufe myfelf for having left fuch parts out of the text, 
as I do not believe tp be genuine, for the fame reafon that Bernini 
declined the talk of repairing a famous though mutilated flatue, 
becaufe I am unwilling to unite flucco with Grecian marble. 

I muft add a few more reaibns why I neither believe the former 
comedy of the Tamine the Shrew, 1607, nor the old play of King 
John in two parts, to have been the work of Shakefpeare. He ge- 
sierally followed every novel or hiftory from whence he took his 
plots, as dofely as he could ; and is fo oft^n indebted to thefe on4 
ginals for his very thoughts and expreflions, that we may fairly 
pronounce him not to have been above borrowing, to fpare him- 
leflf the labour of invention. It is therefore probable, that both 
thefe plays, (like that of Hen. V. in which Oldcaftle is intro- 
duced) were the unfuccefsful performances of contemporary au- 
thors. Shakefpeare faw they were meanly written, and yec 
tbtt their plans were fuch as would furnifh incidents for a better 
dramatifl. He therefore might lazily adopt the order of their 
fcenes, dill writing the dialogue anew, ana inferting little more 
from either piece, than a few lines which he flight think worth 
preferving, or was too much in hade to alter. It is no uncom- 
mon thing in the literary world to fee (he track of others followed 
by thofe who would never have given themfelves the trouble to 
mark out one of their own. Steeve ns. 

From this play the Tatler formed a dory, vol. iv. J^o. 231. 

•* • I ^ HERE are very many ill habits that might with much 
X cafe have been prevented, which, after we have indulged 
ourfelves in them, become incorrigible. We have a fort of pro- 
verbial ex predion, of taking a nuoman Jonun in ber iMtddinv Jhus^ 
if you would bring her to reafon. An early behaviour of this fort, 
had a very remarkable good edfedt in a family wherein I was feveral 
years an intimate acquaintance. 

** A gentleman inLincolndiire had four daughters, three of which 
were early married very happily ; but the fourth, though no way 
inferior to any of her fiders, either in perfon or accomplidiments, 
had from her infancy difcovered fo imperious a temper, (ufoally 
called a high fpirit) that it continually made great uneafinefs in 

the 



OF THE SriREW. 



45S 



Hik family, became her known charader in the neighbonrhood, 
and deterred all her lovers from declaring themfelves. However, 
in procefsof time, a gentleman of a plentiful fortune and long ac- 
Guaintance, having obferved that quicknefs of fpirit to be her onlf 
iault, made his addrefTes, and obtained her confent in dne form. ' 
The lawyers finifhed the writings, (in which, by the way, there - 
was no pin-money) and they were married. After a decent time" 
fbcnt in the father's houfe, the bridegroom went to prepare hii' 
Icat for her reception. During the whole courfe of hjs coortfliipt 
though a man of the moil equal temper, he had artificially lament- 
ed to her, that he was the mod paflionate creature breathing. By 
this one intimation, he at once made her underlland warmth o£ 
temper to be what he ought to pardon in her, as well as that he 
alarmed her againft that conltitution in himfelf. She at the fame 
time thought herfelf highly obliged by the compofed behaviour 
which he maintained in her prcfence. Thus far he with great fuc- 
cefs foothed her from being guilty of violences, and ftill refblved 
to give her fuch a terrible apprehenfion of his fiery fpint, that flie 
Ihould never dream of giving way to her own. He returned on 
the day appointed for carrying her home; but indead of a coach 
and fix horfet, together with the gay equipage fuicable to the oc- 
caiion, he appeared without a fervant, mounted on a flceletonof a 
horfe, which his huntfman had the day before brought in to feaft 
his dogs on the arrival of his new miltrefs, with a pillion fixed be- 
hind, and a cafe of piftols before him, attended only by a favour- 
ite hound. Thus equipped, he in a very obliging (but fomewhat 
pofitive) manner, defircd his lady to feat heri'elf on the cufliion; 
which done, away they crawled. The road being obflrufled by 
a gate, the dog was commanded to open it : the poor cur looked 
up and wagged his tail ; but the mailer, to (hew the impatience of 
his temper, drew a pidol and (hot him dead. He had no fooner 
done it, but he fell into a thoufand apologies for his unhappy 
rafhnefs, and begged as many pardons for his excefTes before one 
for whom he had fo profound a refpedl. Soon after their fteed 
ftumbled, but with feme difficulty recovered; however thebride- 
eroom took occafion to fwear, if he frightened his wife fo again, 
ne would run him through ! And alas ! the poor animal bieing 
now almofl tired, made a fecond trip ; immediately on which the 
careful hufband alights, and with great ceremony, firft takes off 
his lady, then the accoutrements, draws his fword, and faves the 
huntfman the trouble of killing him : then fays to his wife. Child, 
pr'ythee take up the faddle ; which (he readily did, and tugged it 
home, where they found all things in the greateft order, (nitable 
to their fortune and the prefent occa(ion. Some time after, the 
father of the lady gave an entertainment to all his daughters and 
their hu(bands, where, when the wives were retired, and the gentle- 
men paflinga toalt about, our lail married man took occafion to 

obfer\'e 



jiS6 T H E T A M I N G, ^c; 

obferve to the reft of his brethren, how much, to his gieat iktili. 
fadion, he found the world miibaken as to the temper of hi* lady^ 
for that (he was the moft meek and humble woman breathing 
The applanfe was received with a loud hiugh : but as a trial which 
of them would appear the moft matter at home, he propofed they 
ihould all by turns fend for their wives down to them. A fervant 
was difpatched, and anfwer was made by one» Tell him I will 
come by and by ; ^and another. That (he would come when the 
cards were out of her hand; and fo on. But no fooner was her huf- 
band's defire whifpered in the ear of our laft married lady, but 
the cards were clapped on the table, and down ihe comes with^ 
My dear, would you fpeak with me ? He received her in his 
arms, and, after repeated carefTes, tells her the experiment, con- 
fcfles his good-nature, and afTures her, that fince ihe could now 
command her temper, he would no longer difguife his own." 

It cannot but feem flrange that Shakefpeare fhould be Co little 
known to the author of the Tatler, that he ihould fufier this llory 
to be obtruded upon him ; or fo little known to the publick, that 
he could hope to make it pafs upon his readers as a real narrative 
of a tranfa&onin Lincolnihire ; vet it is apparent, that he was 
deceived, or intended to deceive, that he knew not himfelf whence 
the ftory was taken, or hoped that he might rob fo obfcure a writer 
without detection. 

Of this play the two plots are fo well united, that they can 
bardly be called two without injury to the art with which they are 
interwoven. The attention is entertained with all the variety of 
a double plot, yet is not diftradled by unconneded incidents. 

The part between Catharine and Petruchio is eminently fpritely 
and diverting. At the marriage of Bianca the arrival of the real 
father, perhaps, produces more perplexity than pleafure. The 
whole play is very popular and diverting. Johnson. 



IND OF THE THIRD VOLUME. 



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THB NEW YORK PUBLIC UBRARY 
RBFBRBNGB DEPARTMENT 



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